Memories of Home
by Ailsa89
Summary: FINISHED A companion piece to Lost in Moria and Trials of Lorien. The Fellowship can sense a gap in their company being filled again. Frodo has returned. But how much can he remember?
1. Waiting

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy!  
  
Memories of Home--  
  
How much would it take to bring Frodo home? What would he see when he returned? And how much would he remember?  
  
~ Chapter One ~  
  
"Samwise Gardener, are you ever planning on coming inside?" Rosie called in exasperated tones. The hobbit smiled to himself.  
  
"I'll be there in a moment. Just thinking, is all," he replied. His wife let out a long sigh but retreated back to her kitchen once more. Sam was propped up in the garden of Bag End, contemplating life. He was feeling old. Not frail or particularly forgetful, but he could sense every year passing now. He had never felt like this before. Not since eleven years ago. He tried so hard to concentrate on forgetting it all and focus on his new life. But there had been so much before and there was so little now. And every day passed as slowly as a week for him. Eleven years, when written down, can be borne. But when you are forced to live every single day of every single month eleven times over... that cannot be properly described. Sam found it hard even to see his friends, Merry and Pippin again. They themselves brought back painful memories. His previous life- Gamgee life, he called it- had been shattered, like glass. And he was trying to resist piecing it back together again. Thinking too hard made his heart ache.  
  
Sam clambered to his feet, dusted himself off and then returned back inside, leaving the star-strewn night to wear itself out to the fringes of dawn.  
  
--  
  
Aragorn slumped in his throne, fingers drumming on the rest as he thought. Arwen watched him from behind the door and smiled. She gently closed the door behind her and then left for her chambers.  
  
The King felt restless. He often did around this time of year. When the winds chilled and the nights began to linger. September was a worn, tired old month. A herald of winter of bitter memories. It was the evening of the twentieth day and Aragorn felt as if he might burst with anxiety. Something was happening out there and he was sitting in a palace. Suddenly, somehow, all his tasks of celebrations and festivities seemed so very meaningless and unimportant compared to what was going on in the wide world. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat and let out a frustrated sigh. No one else seemed to be affected by it. Why him? Why this sudden rush of strange emotions? Aragorn shook the harsh memories from his mind. He did not want to remember Pelennor, the Paths of the Dead..  
  
At last, with great misgivings, Aragorn rose up, stretched and then followed Arwen through the side door and up to bed.  
  
--  
  
Deep in his woodland realm, Legolas was pacing up and down beside the stream. Dreams. They had plagued him since September's first. Days suddenly became apparent to him. Memories of Boromir, Elrond, Galadriel, Gandalf and of Black Riders haunted his steps. His father worried about him all the time now. But Legolas did not want to be fretted over. Everyone around him seemed very useless suddenly. Like food he had eaten for too long. The taste of lembas came to his lips. A meal he had eaten so often years ago.  
  
"Legolas!" cried someone through the trees. The elf did not look up.  
  
"Father?" he said.  
  
"Why do you walk here? Why do you stare into the waters, lost in your thoughts? Legolas, there is something wrong," his father spoke softly. He entered the clearing from the side and Legolas finally paused to look at him. The old elf met the icy gaze then turned away, feeling ashamed at his questions. His son had become more dominant, more like a leader since he returned. He often asked if Legolas wished to take his place as king of Mirkwood but every time he had declined. And now, in this frosty month, he had grown silent and more contemplative. And he would only speak to say that he was waiting for something. Waiting.  
  
--  
  
Erebor was a dark and dank place, Gimli had found. It was so pointless all of a sudden. All these jewels and all these tales. They had become insignificant. Gimli was sitting on a rock overlooking the grey undisturbed water of the lake. It reminded him of another, far more sinister pool far away. And it brought him much grief. But the dwarf was determined not to remember the sorrow of Moria or the fear on Khazad-Dûm. There were voices still shouting and bellowing in his head. Familiar ones, at that.  
  
'You will accompany him..'  
  
Him? No, not him. That brought too much pain even in thought for Gimli. He had left so very long ago. It felt like an age. Tears came to his eyes but he quickly dashed them away, feeling foolish and far to be old to be weeping. But he felt so very out of place here. Lots of dwarves that he was sure he had been close to once. But he had a longing to see elves again and men and hobbits. And he ached to see his companions.  
  
--  
  
Merry and Pippin were sitting silently in the manor's tiny sitting room. There was no sound there but the ticking of the clock as night approached the small hours and the slight crackling of flames in the hearth. The hobbits were lost in twisting thoughts. They wanted to go adventuring. The last few weeks had been spent wandering the wilds of marshes and hills. They even tried to go without food on their latest expedition and had to be towed back by their friends.  
  
Pippin was beginning to feel the sensation of age. He had been young, once. And he remembered feeling young. Audacity and liveliness. But now he felt restless. But it was as though weights had been loaded into his arms and legs and pinned him to one place. His head was spinning alarmingly with memories of ethereal woods and of grand white cities.  
  
Merry felt cold. He was sitting right against the fire but still his bones seemed to be leaden with ice. He kept expecting something enormous to happen. The roof falling in or a messenger to burst through the door bearing incredible news. But somehow, lots of nothing was happening. Wild thoughts crashed through his mind. Of horses and eagles. Of friends and enemies. And he wanted to see it all again! All at once! But still, nothing continued happening.  
  
And it was driving the Fellowship wild.  
  
~  
  
Interested?  
  
~~~~ 


	2. Mr Underhill

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy  
  
Holly Wood: I'm so happy that you're enjoying my fics! They give me so much pleasure to write.  
  
Jay of Lasgalen: Ah, a Legolas fan are you? Yes, I have determined to give him a far more important role than I have in the past. Thank you for the wonderful comments!  
  
Koko Kung: Yay, I've missed you. Ouch! Nasty scanner. It must have had a personal vendetta against your computer. Aw well, I hope you enjoy this fic.  
  
Shirebound: Hehe. I can't resist! I have lots of ideas for this story and I hope they work out well.  
  
The Lazy Fairy: Your comments have really touched me. Thank you ever so much. It makes it all worthwhile to know that I am making someone happy somewhere out there. A "nugget of gold"! Thank you, thank you!  
  
MagicalRachel: Hehe. I'll be guarding the company a little better this time, hopefully. *crosses fingers* But we couldn't miss just a bit of angst now, could we? Can't wait for the next chapter of the Olympics. It is just so good! I loved the tenderness between Eowyn and Faramir.  
  
~ Chapter Two ~  
  
The Grey Havens were lit by an eerie, pale moonlight. There was the sound of waves gently lapping at the shore. A cold wind billowed across the landscape and the trees bent to follow it, their green heads shedding carpets of leaves across the sandy edge. Midnight came silently. Chiming like a silent bell. And upon the sea's horizon, appeared a shape. A small sail fluttering in the wind. As it drew closer, a shape beneath it grew clearer. It was a raft, crudely built out of driftwood and salt-worn tethers. A figure lay draped across it, lost in a shallow sleep and twitching violently. The raft drifted towards the Havens, as if drawn to it by some force. It nudged the sand and then lodged firmly there, letting the water flow in a thin layer across its face and letting the figure float up the beach. It gently deposited him in a small indent of sand. His eyes fluttered open. Even in the dark, their bright blue colour could be made out, almost shining. He flexed his fingers and gazed at them, his brow furrowing. Sitting up, he rubbed at his eyes and looked round in bewilderment. After a while, he got to his feet and began the steady ascent to the short pier. He ran his fingers over the damp wood and his face twisted with sharp pain of memory.  
  
"I know this place," he said wistfully. But no where in his head could he recall where from. It was unbearably familiar.  
  
"I know this place!" he cried, louder. "Hello? Hello? Is anyone there?"  
  
The darkness was frightening to him. Where he came from, there was no night. Only endless, beautiful day. But is that not why he left? Somehow, there were so few memories of what had been. He had left when all had departed and he was alone on a wide white beach. Almost identical to this one, he thought. He sat down on the pier and gazed back out to sea. He remembered doing so very long ago. But here there was something missing. Something different. But once again, the arrival was left in doubt. This place felt more welcoming than from where he had come. It had been warm, comforting and there were people there who loved him. But it had lacked something. It had torn his heart in two.  
  
'You cannot always be torn in two..'  
  
He gasped and clutched at his heart. It had suddenly come to him, in a flash of agonising memory. His fingers crept to his shoulder where a dull throbbing had begun deep under the skin. It was an old wound and he remembered. He remembered so little and yet this was such a very familiar movement that he had made several times before. Where he had come from- his home; it must have been!- nothing had ever hurt before. But now, everything was hurting at once. His heart, his mind and forgotten wounds. Suddenly, a voice came out through the darkness and he started.  
  
"The road goes ever on and on, down from the door where it began, now far ahead the road has gone, and I must follow if I can.. Ai ai, what's this then? Hoy down there! Who are you?"  
  
He spun round and gazed up at a short figure standing against the trees, a pipe sticking out a side of his mouth and a staff gripped in one hand. He squinted at the newcomer through misty spectacles.  
  
"Speak up!" he said. The figure jumped again and he scrambled to his feet.  
  
"Sorry! I'm.. Mr- Mr Underhill. Excuse me, sir, but I'm curious.. is that song- the one you were just singing- is it a common one among these parts?"  
  
"Well, yes," came the reply, "I suppose so. Hobbits right 'cross the Shire like singing it fine. Hey, you alright? You look fair pale!"  
  
"I'm fine," Mr Underhill answered shakily, "But, would you mind terribly leading me to the nearest, er, house from here? I will need a bed for the night."  
  
"Ain't no houses round here. Only find them posh things in Bree. But you're welcome to stay at my hole for the night. My wife'd give you a meal and all," the stranger said. He beckoned to this strange creature, wondering what it was. The face looked elvish but the accent was certainly that of the Shire and it was hobbit size. He seemed courteous and Fedirand was willing to take in anyone who was polite.  
  
"That's terribly kind of you, sir. Are you quite sure that I'd be no trouble?"  
  
"Come on," Ferdirand called and Mr Underhill climbed the last stretch of beach to join the farmer. He smiled and the hobbit nodded respectfully. There was something uncanny about this one, he thought. "You do remind me of someone. Have we ever met?" he asked. Mr Underhill shook his head slowly.  
  
"N-no. I couldn't say. Do you think we have?"  
  
"I think I'd recognise you if I had," Ferdirand muttered and then led his new companion into the woods. 


	3. Dreams

~ Chapter Three ~  
  
Minas Tirith was quiet. Then, the palace doors smashed wide and the king stormed out. The city shuddered, as a sleeping dog when it has been woken. It seemed to stretch and yawn and, wearily, the residents began to arise. Aragorn passed furiously down to the stables. He was buckling his belt, pinning his cloak and trying to calm his frenzied thoughts. He entered the stables and inhaled the musty air. Then, he ran to the back of the chamber, rousing the equine family as he moved. He swung open the door and patted his steed on the rump.  
  
"Come, boy. Up with you now," he said sternly. Brégo glared at him but, letting out a snort, he got to his hooves and waited patiently while his master loaded him up with saddle and harness. Then, Aragorn swung one leg into the stirrup and then settled into place. It felt good to be astride a horse once more. He felt in charge once more. No cares in the world but for justice to prevail. Making sure that Andúril was safely in its scabbard, he kicked his heels back into Brégo's fawn sides and then sped out from the stables and back into the sunlight.  
  
Half-awake stable boys leaped out of the way as the king came galloping past. He cantered down, from level to level until he reached the golden doors of his kingdom.  
  
"Open in the name of the king!" he ordered. The man on guard jumped and bowed low. He then hurriedly woke his companion and they ran to obey him. Aragorn gazed in awe at the countryside flowing out before him. It had been too long since he had felt this free. But now he was bound north. Brégo raced out into the broad fields and the citizens of Minas Tirith watched as their king rode out, faster and faster and looked at each with consternation as he dropped below the horizon.  
  
--  
  
The day was cold. It was the twenty-first morning and it held mixed feelings for Samwise. He lay next to his wife, gazing up in the ceiling in thought. His restlessness had subsided. All seemed calm. More so, in many ways, than it had ever done. Stretching, he climbed out of bed to go and wake his children. (A.N: I am awfully sorry if I get Sam's children wrong. It is unforgivable if I have)  
  
He crept into Elanor's room and was about to call out softly but then decided against it. She looked so peaceful, her golden hair spilling out like sunshine around her pretty face. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth and she suddenly burst out into a fit of giggling. At first, Sam thought that she had woken but he realised that Elanor was still fast asleep, engrossed in a happy dream. He quietly retreated and went to see if Frodo-lad was awake. He was.  
  
"Mornin', my love," Sam said, walking over to the bed. His son blinked at him and grinned.  
  
"I had lovely dreams, Daddy!" he cried, reaching out to put his arms round his father's neck. Sam embraced him warmly then sat down on the nearby chair.  
  
"And what did you dream about then?"  
  
"I dreamt that I was sittin' on a long wooden thing-y. It stuck out into the water and I was sittin' on the end of the thing-y and looking out to the water. It was huge!" Frodo spread his arms very wide to try and get across the enormity of this scene. "Bigger, even than this! And there was a little boat bobbing on the waves. And it was filled with nice people. They were wavin', like this." He waved both his hands over his head and Sam laughed. Frodo grinned at him and then continued, eyes shining. "Oh, it was wonderful, Daddy! There was a dwarf with a bright red beard and two other hobbits and a big man with a golden crown and there was an elf too! A real an' proper elf, Daddy! And they were all wavin' like mad." He waved his arms again. Then he yawned sleepily. Sam smiled and walked over to kiss his child on the forehead.  
  
"You sleep as much as you like, Frodo-lad. And I'll get us some breakfast."  
  
"Alright, Daddy," the little hobbit said, already buried under his covers again. Sam walked back out into the corridor, closing the door behind him. The smile on his face had been replaced by the frown of bewilderment. That dream had to mean something. You always did get meaningful dreams about this time of year. But there was no doubt who his son had seen. But he had never mentioned his friends to anyone before. He padded downstairs to the kitchen and slung his apron on over his night-clothes.  
  
"Now then," he said, "Breakfast."  
  
--  
  
Light streamed through Osgiliath. The river splitting the city gleamed silver in the light and the buzz of voices started to grow in the narrow streets. In a small house sitting at the end of a road, Faramir awoke and yawned loudly, waking his wife. Eowyn groaned and lashed out with a hand before he could get up.  
  
"Ssh," she scolded, "Can you not stay still for just a few moments?"  
  
Faramir sighed and fell back onto the covers.  
  
"Go back to sleep," Eowyn murmured.  
  
Just then, there was a hammering on the door. Both of them leapt up, flinging on robes and shoes. They hurried to answer the frantic knocking. Faramir flung the door wide and peered outside. His face lit up.  
  
"Aragorn! What a-"  
  
The man stopped him with a raised hand.  
  
"I need your help," he said. 


	4. Broken Heart

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Shirebound: Thank you ever so much! I am really enjoying writing this story too and I amazed at the response! Oh and btw, Frodo has been away eleven years.  
  
Crazytook: Glad you liked the descriptions- they're fun to write. Hope you enjoy coming chapters.  
  
Fyre: Thank you! I am so pleased that you liked chapter one. It was tricky to get things in place but it's nice to hear that it worked. Hehe- no hobbit in his right mind would purposely go off anywhere without food!! But then, this is Merry and Pippin...  
  
MagicalRachel: No *sob* we're studying Shakespeare at school at the moment and there isn't much room for creative writing at all. I guess that's why I leap on the prospect of updating my stories. I will definitely check out that fic!  
  
Deborah: Ah, wow, thank you! I hope that this story brings you lots more pleasure in the future.  
  
Koko Kung: Hehe. I try. Monday was incredibly long yesterday and my legs are still aching for gymnastics. So I was feeling suitably ready to write about Middle-Earth. Thank you for the comments!  
  
TrueFan: I am so sorry. I thought that chapter one would get a bit hard. And I see what you mean about chapter two. But he has come back to the Shire in this story. Well, I promise now that the confusing stuff is over and hopefully I will try and piece it back together.  
  
A Elbereth: I did homework at the library so I could get in the "vibe" I suppose, for writing about a memory-frozen Frodo. Yes, I enjoy Frodo-return fics, they just make me feel all fuzzy inside. Teehee. There is a lovely story about Sam going to Valinor by Skye called Can the Heart Forget? It is beautiful! Thank you!  
  
Lil*bee: I'm sorry! Sorry! Knew you'd like the extra Legolas. He has a major part later on. Glad you enjoyed the beginning.  
  
17 reviews already! Thank you everyone!  
  
~ Chapter Four ~  
  
Faramir looked dazedly on as Aragorn marched up and down the troops, giving out orders and sending columns of men down towards the guard towers. It was just as it was, at Pelennor. Aragorn's strength and command over the army had been immense and unstoppable. Even now it showed, when he was just sending out scouts and lookouts.  
  
"Arag- Your majesty," Faramir called when his companion came near, "I am not doubting you for a moment but, why do you need all these men? Where are you sending them?"  
  
"As far north and as far south as possible. They will move along the Misty Mountains, searching for danger. Some will head down the Old Road and others will stray to Ithilien. And the rest head to the Shire. The guards will remain as look-out all round the city," came the curt answer. Aragorn span round on his heel and smiled at Faramir. "It's good to see you again. I missed you."  
  
"You too," Faramir said faintly. And then he found himself being dragged off by the king down a flight of steps.  
  
"Wait, wait, wait," the man protested, lifting the arm from round his shoulders. "Please, Aragorn, sire, tell me what is going on in that head of yours. Why all the worry? And, no offence intended, why did you use the men of Osgiliath rather than those of Minas Tirith?"  
  
Aragorn frowned in thought.  
  
"I suppose I wanted an excuse to get out of there. I needed a reason to just.. leave."  
  
"Whatever for?"  
  
"I want to be Strider again!" the king laughed. "I want to be Elessar and roam with elves across the world. I want to visit the Lonely Mountain and see hobbits and dwarves again. When you are king, it feels that everything has stopped and you have nothing left doing apart from plans for new things, things for the future. You no longer live for the present and let your own freedom in your own kingdom pass you by. So I am here and for the moment, I am Strider. I am free."  
  
--  
  
Elanor, Frodo-lad and Rosie came down to a vast spread of breads, broths, meats and fruits for breakfast. Sam, however, was nowhere to be found.  
  
"Samwise?" Rosie murmured. She sat her children down and then went to where a tattered piece of parchment lay in a pool of soapsuds by the sink.  
  
*-Sorry not to wait, my loves. I've gone walking for a while. Thinking. I'll be back soon. Daddy-*  
  
"Are you alright, Mummy?" Elanor asked from behind her. Rosie looked round.  
  
"Yes, dear. Daddy's just gone out thinking." Then under her breath. "Thinking in this weather..."  
  
--  
  
Sam walked for a long time, not really looking where he was going. His head was turned down, eyes on the ground in front of his feet. That dream. That dream. Were the Fellowship calling for his son? Calling for Frodo-lad? For Frodo.  
  
The sky rumbled and Sam felt a sharp tap of rain on the back on his neck. It soon began to pour. The clouds rolled in and a sheet of rain clouded the Shire in every direction. The hobbit wrapped his arms about him and ran into the nearest doorway. It was The Green Dragon and, thankfully, he ducked inside. The inn was crowded with singing hobbits. They had grouped together and were telling each other old stories. Sam's ears caught the mention of "Mad Old Baggins" and he grimaced. But ignoring this, he seated himself at one of the tables and found himself opposite an old and weather- beaten friend.  
  
"Hello there," he said cheerfully, "I haven't seen you in a while, Moro."  
  
Moro looked up and grinned.  
  
"Hullo, Sam. How you keepin' yourself, lately?"  
  
"Fair enough. Any news for me then? What's happening in the Shire?"  
  
Moro looked pleased. He had obviously been waiting for someone to ask that very question. There was a twinkle in his eye that made Sam lean close to hear.  
  
"Now that you ask," Moro said, lowering his voice to a whisper, "I had heard tell of a newcomer off on the west coast. Right strange sort. Rumours goin' round that Farmer Bumbleroot taken him under his wing. Very strange. Just found him wandering on the beach one night. But I dunno, Sam-lad," he ended, as he never failed to do, "Could just be rumours."  
  
"But you're not often wrong, Moro. I'll trust you like I've done before and I'll go and see for myself," Sam replied proudly. He even impressed this statement by getting to his feet and shaking the rain from his cloak. The old hobbit looked up, one eyebrow raised.  
  
"What for?"  
  
"I'm curious. I've got awful restless these past few days and I know Ferdirand Bumbleroot. It'd be nice to see him again."  
  
"Oh, well then, Sam, I s'pose you know best. Have a good trip- and be careful you don't get caught in another one of 'em showers. This one'll have stopped by now but they'll be more, mark my words."  
  
Sam pushed wide the door and found, just as Moro had said, the rain had stopped. He was like that. Always seemed to know the strangest of things. The hobbit marched back down the lane. His thoughts had finally been frozen in their tumbling and directed on a course once more. But it was not for the reason he had spoken of. Sam was going to the Grey Havens. He needed to see them again.  
  
--  
  
"You can't just go off like this! What about Elanor and Frodo-lad? What will I say to them?" Rosie asked, watching as her husband flung things into a pack. She leaned wearily against the door. "And why now?"  
  
"Rosie, love, I just.. I need to see them again. I realised- leastways I think I have- that I've got to face up to the Gamgee life. Otherwise I'll go on wasting away thinking about it."  
  
Sam pulled the strings on his pack tight and then slung it round his shoulders. He embraced his wife but when he tried to withdraw, she would not let go.  
  
"I know," she said quietly, "I do understand, Sam, it's just, well, I don't want to see you hurting yourself remembering it. They were terrible times. And so much was lost because of them." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "Mister Frodo isn't coming back."  
  
Sam drew away and immediately turned down the corridor. He opened the round green door and stepped outside without another word. He stood there briefly, taking in a deep breath and concentrating on holding back the tears. After all this time! After so many years, it still hurt so much.  
  
'You cannot always be torn in two..'  
  
It had torn his heart, long ago. 


	5. Part of Him

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Tiggivon: Thank you for all your wonderful comments- both here and for Trials of Lórien. I am so pleased that you liked the ending and that you are enjoying this.  
  
Lotrmatrixstarwarsfan: Oh so true name! Glad you like this story!  
  
Cookies and crème: Ah *knowing smile* You will find out why Frodo left soon enough.  
  
~ Chapter Five ~  
  
Mr Underhill gasped when he saw Ferdirand's hole. He took a step back and the farmer stopped.  
  
"What's the matter?" he asked, "Ain't that bad is it?"  
  
"No, not at all! Oh- it's beautiful!"  
  
He ran forward along the path and pressed his hand to the door. It felt warm. It felt familiar. A cosy sort of familiarity that was almost part of him. Ferdirand joined him and knocked briskly on the door. It was opened at once and Mr Underhill nearly fell on his face.  
  
"Well well," cried the hobbit lady that had come to greet them.  
  
"Greetin's, my dear," the farmer said, giving his wife a kiss, "This here is Mr Underhill and he needs somewhere to stay."  
  
"Are you sure that it-" Mr Underhill began but found himself wrenched inside by several pairs of hands. He stumbled and fell to the floor and heard a chorus of giggling start up behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see three faces gazing at him.  
  
"Look at his eyes, Mama!" they cried, lunging for him again. "Oh, can we keep him?"  
  
"Get on with you, girls!" cried Ferdirand's wife, helping her guest to his feet. The daughters retreated backwards, hiding their faces behind their hands.  
  
"Shall I show you to the spare room, Mr Underhill and will you be wantin' any food?"  
  
"What?" the hobbit began, a little dazed, "Oh, thank you. Very kind of you."  
  
They showed him to a small, brightly-coloured chamber.  
  
"You're welcome to stay as long as you need," Ferdirand said proudly. Mr Underhill smiled wanly at him.  
  
"Thank you- this is just wonderful."  
  
He then found himself drawn back out and to the kitchen where the table was already being laid. The young hobbits glanced at each other but were silent. Mr Underhill and the Bumbleroot family seated themselves and then started onto the glorious food that had been retrieved from the oven. It was all piping hot and it tasted delicious. Mr Underhill ate very little but said that it had been the best meal he could remember ever eating. And he then retired to his bedroom. Giving a quick sigh of satisfaction, the hobbit closed the door behind him and began getting ready for bed.  
  
He slipped under the warm covers and closed his eyes. He only remembered feeling cold and now he was warm and cosy as if buried under a thousand feathers. There were no worries or fears in his mind. Except that of remembering things. People, places, events that still brought strange feelings to his heart. But he refused to let himself dwell on them and soon fell into a deep sleep.  
  
--  
  
It was raining again. Sam had walked many miles before exhaustion had claimed him. Now he squatted under a large willow, gazing into a puddle at his feet. He shivered and pulled his cloak to his sides. Fat raindrops kept slithering down the back of his neck and under his shirt. He could not remember ever being so cold or wet in all his life. But, as determined as only Samwise Gamgee-Gardener could be, he got to his feet and marched on into the gathering darkness.  
  
--  
  
Mr Underhill woke up with a scream. He stared deliriously round at the gloom, hands reaching out blindly. When he realised that he was awake, he lay back heavily, breathing hard, a hand to his brow. He waited sometime and was relieved to find that he had not woken anyone. His thoughts were a blur, a mess. The things that he had seen behind his eyes! Terrible, mind- bending things that brought an avalanche of memories tumbling down, showering him with doubt.  
  
"A d-dream," he murmured to himself. "No, no, it can't have been! But how-"  
  
There was no answer. The nightmares had been in his head and yet, they were just, real. Solid. He could recall their sound and texture. The black stone under foot. Even the sound of the volcano erupting in the background. Volcano? A mountain of fire that belched flame and ash high into the sky. And a persistent voice in his head, a cry that echoed everywhere in his mind. So familiar that he feared that it would drive him insane. But there had been somewhere there with him. Someone dear to him. More than that. Someone almost part of him. And then the friend's voice had just gone, vanished, and he was falling through infinite blackness, screaming for aid but only receiving stinging blows.  
  
In memory of this, Mr Underhill put a hand to his back. To his horror, his fingers found light ridges on the skin. He followed the line up along his back and found yet more. Long, cruel wounds that now throbbed dully. He had been whipped. It was a strong recollection. Of leering faces filled with hate. Of clawed hands that tore his clothes and lashed him. He flinched. How could even mere memories bring so much pain! And why could he remember so little? He put his head into his hands as the shadow of doubt slipped secretly back into his mind.  
  
--  
  
"I'm here. And it feels like I was here yesterday," said Sam. The odd serenity of the scene around was eerie to say the least. A whole day of walking, with little rest. A night to a night. The Grey Havens came as his refuge. But he would not- could not- find peace here. The memory was burning like fire now, like a flame that danced on the calm waters.  
  
'You cannot always be torn in two..'  
  
"I could have come with you," Sam said quietly, "But goodness knows where you are now. Happy, I should think. That's all I wanted, isn't it? To make you happy? And after all you went through, what else was there for you here? Always ill and in pain. And that cursed Ri-" He stopped himself. There was no point in yelling at the waves. They would carry no messages for him to his master. His master had gone. There was nothing he had to come back to. At this last crushing thought, the hobbit walked a few steps more and then lay down and curled up on the sand. 


	6. Elf, Dwarf and Man

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Shirebound: I know! I love doing reunions! I'd like to do a Gandalf one someday, just to see if I can. Hope you enjoy following chapters!  
  
Lil*bee: I'm so sorry! Your comment inspired a Legolas-y chapter so I guess this is dedicated to you.  
  
Violet: Thank you a hundred times over for your beautiful comments! I was really moved. Me too; I had a dream about Frodo leaving the Grey Havens once and it made me cry afterwards! You a fan of Frodo? I'm so pleased that you are having a good read here.  
  
~ Chapter Six ~  
  
"Gimli! No, that is not you. Can it be?"  
  
"Who else comes eye-level with your knees and carries an axe?" the dwarf grumbled. Legolas, his face almost splitting with his smile, picked Gimli up and hugged him close.  
  
"Gimli, oh my dear friend! I have missed you more than you can imagine!"  
  
"Put me down! Put me down!"  
  
The elf obeyed. He bent down to engulf his companion in yet another embrace and then drew back to study Gimli's face.  
  
"You never age," he said. Then laughed. "Dear Gimli! It is so good to see you again! But why on earth have you come?"  
  
"To see you, of course," Gimli cried, as if this was obvious. This time, the dwarf put his arms round Legolas and he laughed as well. "Legolas, you old fool. Well, not really old. Still immortal then?"  
  
"Yes, I am still holding on. But come, you must come and meet the rest of my kin. They have stayed up many nights to hear me speak of you."  
  
Dwarf and elf walked back into Mirkwood, conversing with great delight. It was almost as if they glowed together. As brightly as the stars.  
  
--  
  
Night was becoming old and the moon was paling in the sky. Aragorn gazed up at it as he sat up on the North wall of Osgiliath. His eyes ached from peering into the distance. He was waiting so impatiently for something to happen. Anything! But still the world seemed to be peace and all affairs remained in order. Nothing was out of place or amiss and only the dark of the lingering twilight now darkened the horizons. The king wondered briefly if there was a star for those that have fallen. Boromir, Théoden, Haldir.. He liked to imagine so. That the light of their lives still existed and had not been entirely doused. The void stretched out before him, more complicated with every look. The first song of birds commenced in a small chorus. A flock rose up from a tree and fluttered off in all directions, spreading the word of morning.  
  
Aragorn put his hands to the wall and got to his feet. Almost as soon as he had, he heard the approach of footsteps. Faramir waved to him as he walked along the ramparts. He gave his friend one glance and raised an eyebrow.  
  
"You did not sleep at all?"  
  
"I am too full of energy to even close my eyes, Faramir," the man chuckled, "Let a lone sleep."  
  
They stood in silence for sometime, gazing out as the world began to wake. Gold spread out over the fields and cast bronze shadows across the river. The sun's fiery head appeared at the east and the sounds of life drifted up from the city behind them.  
  
"Does Arwen know where you are?" asked Faramir softly. Aragorn nodded.  
  
"She understood. I do not know what my people will think of me but.. Arwen understands these things. She knows when I need to be alone."  
  
"Forgive me, for I do not," his comrade replied, "Do you wish to be alone now?"  
  
"Just for a while, yes. But do not think I abhor your company! It's just-"  
  
"I know," laughed Faramir. He turned to depart, then paused. "Aragorn.. you sent out those riders to find out what is happening. To see if anything is happening at all. But I still not really understand. Do you think that trouble approaches?"  
  
The man thought about this for a time. Then he said,  
  
"No. I know something is coming but I do not believe it is bad. Just new. Just.. unexpected."  
  
--  
  
Tharandúil's meal was suddenly interrupted by a rapid knocking on the doors.  
  
"Tulya," he said and his son walked into the room.  
  
"Legolas- and who is this?" he cried, getting to his feet. But his consternation changed to gladness as he saw the dwarf standing sheepishly beside Legolas. "Ah, I take it that this is the famous Gimli, son of Gloìn. Mae govannen! Well met indeed."  
  
Legolas was pleased at his father's response and amused at his friend's.  
  
"The dwarves are upon you, my lord! And never have I seen such a place so rich with beauty and merriment."  
  
Tharandúil beamed.  
  
"I am glad. Well, if you are planning to stay a while in Mirkwood then you will have to relate a few tales every night before you sleep! My elves have heard much from my son of your homeland. Legolas, please show our guest to a place where he may rest. You must have travelled far, Gimli."  
  
"Not long," the dwarf replied proudly as his friend showed him from the room. The elf-king shook his head with a smile and then sat down to finish his food. 


	7. Samwise

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
MagicalRachel: Goody! Another Sam fan! Thank you for the luverly comments!  
  
Shirebound: I went a bit insane yesterday and just wrote and wrote and wrote. I managed two chapters and my Geography homework all before ten o'clock. Calm, Ailsa, calm. Plus I just finished reading Bored of the Rings and have started on Barry Trotter and the Shameless Parody so I got steadily hyper during the day. Glad you liked the line too!  
  
TrueFan: Hehe- nice to know I amuse. Oh, I have no brother to tell me I'm an idiot and I'm jealous! Morgan is the coolest name too. So pleased you're enjoying this.  
  
Elf of Rivendell: Wow! Thank you! I'm really touched. I hoped that you would like the Aragorn moments.  
  
~ Chapter Seven ~  
  
Mr Underhill climbed out of the bed with a splitting headache. He quickly slipped on his clothes and then sat back down heavily. Nightmares had haunted him. Of terrible dark caves and a narrow stone bridge. Arrows that zipped and spun about him, tearing the darkness. Angry snarls and catcalls echoing in huge chambers. And then a low rumbling and the hiss of flame. A booming voice, the splintering of metal and his own voice- screaming. Then he had woken.  
  
There was a knocking on the door and without waiting for any reply, Ferdirand's wife strode briskly into the room. She smiled at her guest.  
  
"Sleep well?"  
  
"Oh, very well. Thank you," the hobbit answered, out of habit. The little housewife busied herself with tidying bedsheets and drawing curtains.  
  
"Anything planned for today?" she asked conversationally as she worked.  
  
"Yes, I was thinking of going for a walk. Down to- the, er, the pier."  
  
"Oh you mean the Grey Havens? Nice there in the morning. Breakfast'll be ready in a few minutes."  
  
"The Grey-" Mr Underhill seemed to be caught in some sort of trance. He had frozen in one position, staring ahead, mouth slightly open. The wife frowned and turned to look at him. But before she could speak, he had got up from the chair and raced out of the room. There was the sound of his departing footsteps and then the front door opening and slamming behind him. The daughters came running into the spare room at all the commotion.  
  
"Mama, what is it?" asked the eldest.  
  
"Mr Underhill," replied her mother, clearing her throat, "Has gone for a walk."  
  
"Oh he does speak nicely," sighed the fairer of the trio, "And he has the most 'mazing eyes!"  
  
"He's just beautiful," breathed the other and they all blushed. The wife regained her wits enough to scold them for speaking in such a manner and shooed them out of the room. But she could not help but agree that Mr Underhill did have remarkable eyes...  
  
--  
  
Sam woke blearily and winced. He rubbed the sand from his eyes and sat up, gazing off to the horizon. The Grey Havens were truly magnificent in the sunlight. The water divided into so many parts, each wave outlined a hundred times with silver and gold that it was almost impossible to watch one part for more than a second.  
  
"Well, you came, Sam. You faced up to your fear."  
  
He did not feel any better for it. The place was so desolate. The last time he had seen it, it had been milling with his friends and companions. And now the pier was empty. No proud ship stood at its end, white sails unfurled to the wind. No voices singing their farewells. Nothing but shadows of memories that sifted like sands before his eyes. He walked to the end of the pier and positioned his feet into a certain way. He stood still, brow creased.  
  
"I stood right on this spot when he said goodbye...said I couldn't come with him. Said that I couldn't always be torn in two."  
  
His voice trailed off to silence and he was left, a lonely figure shivering at the end of the landing, staring listlessly off across a vast unending ocean.  
  
--  
  
Mr Underhill ran faster than he ever remembered, his waistcoat tearing on twigs and thorns and his arms scratched by low-hanging branches. He knew the way as if he had walked it every day of his life. He ran until his legs were stiff as wood and his arms felt like lead. At last, he stumbled back onto the sandy edges of the Havens and he fell to his knees, gazing round as his recollections sprang to life. There- it was there that the ship had waited for him. Lots of people gathered together, watching him and many others as they boarded. It was so strong that Mr Underhill would almost swear that he was reliving it. He suddenly heard a voice. It rose loudly over the roar of waves in song.  
  
"You walked across  
  
That endless sea  
  
You said, "You  
  
Can't come with me."  
  
You left across  
  
That endless sea  
  
I wished you stayed  
  
Here with me."  
  
He crawled over to the edge of the embankment of sand and looked down to see a figure standing alone, looking out to sea. He got to his feet and walked slowly down, not wishing to startle the character. He joined him and studied his face. The eyes were a soft brown-green, encompassing many emotions at once. His sandy hair partly covered the dark, drawn face and smeared the tears on his cheeks.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked. There was a deep concern in his heart for this hobbit. As if he needed to protect him. The guardianship he felt for him was almost alarming. The figure turned to look at him and his face fell.  
  
"You're just a memory," he said.  
  
"Pardon?" Mr Underhill cried, taken aback.  
  
"You ain't real. I must've gone mad."  
  
"I'm real. Oh, please, tell me what's the matter."  
  
The hobbit just scowled at him.  
  
"My mind's playin' tricks. Stop it! Go away!"  
  
The words hurt so much that Mr Underhill almost choked. He put a shaking hand but it was only received with hostility.  
  
"Leave me alone! You ain't real! I'm not going to pretend that my master's still here. Stop tryin' to fool me!"  
  
"But please! I don't understand. I'm so lost here and I don't remember things and- and then there are so many things coming back. And I- " he swallowed hard, "It's as if I knew this place once but now I can't even remember."  
  
It felt right to say all this. Finally. And he didn't want to let go of his new discovery. He was someone he could trust. Someone who had been there for him every day. To hold back that shadow in his mind. Fighting his fears and- he remembered being carried. Up the slopes of a mountain of fire.  
  
The hobbit before him blinked severally. Then he rubbed his eyes hard and looked again. He reached out and put his hand to Mr Underhill's face.  
  
"Mister- Mister Frodo?"  
  
And suddenly, Mr Underhill no longer existed. The name had been washed away, leaving clear marks behind reading only his name. His real name. The hobbit came forward so fast that it nearly knocked him to the ground. Both were sobbing so hard they could barely speak.  
  
"Frodo! You came back- you really really came back! Oh, master, sir, Mister Frodo...Your Sam never gave up on you. I was always waitin' and then- and then..."  
  
Frodo's fingers dug into Sam's back, making sure that they would never lose each other again. Never again! He was too breathless to speak but just clung to his friend and wept until his eyes were dry. 


	8. To Be Together

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
I am falling into depression because AVALANCHE by shirebound has ended. *collapses and begins to sob uncontrollably*  
  
Crazytook: Glad you like Sam- he's a lot of fun to write. He's just so loyal and loveable! Ah, yes, Gandalf will be making an appearance. But a lot later on. This is going to be a very long story and I have quite a bit of it worked out. Hope that you find ensuing chapters enjoyable too!  
  
Lil*bee: I am so pleased that you like this story. Your reviews make me feel so special! I am honoured that I am the first on your favourites list- thank you so much and I cannot wait to see your own stories.  
  
Shirebound: You finished Avalanche! Arg! It is no longer Shirebounday but Friday again. *grumble* I was once accused of being an evil twisty-turny thing and I reckon here that I'm living up to it. Thank you so much for Avalanche!  
  
MagicalRachel: I sort of ran out of people who died and so Haldir slipped in. Not very heartfelt, unfortunately but it was more for the sake of the story. Sorry! I thought you'd like the Frodo and Sam bit. D'aw, green-brown and AMAZING BLUE eyes. Sam-fic? Sam-fic? Wherewherewhere? Hope to see it very soon!  
  
The Lazy Fairy: Nope, not the end for a very long time. I never wrote about Tharanduil before. But he's generally a good thing. Glad you liked him. I know! School- ack- it drives me up the wall!  
  
TrueFan: Yay! Freaky memories! I know- I am such a sadist. Poor hobbitses. As for your brothers, um, I'll have Morgan because I love the name! Oh I'm sure they're not all that bad. It's worse to be alone. "No loyal friend was ever there for me...Now we say goodbye. We say you didn't try..."  
  
????: Cool name. Thank you so much for the ideas! Yes, I was planning on it but you've inspired me far more with Sam's family. I am so pleased that you're enjoying Memories of Home. This chapter is dedicated to you!  
  
~ Chapter Eight ~  
  
Brégo galloped across the landscape, kicking up turf at his hooves. He was following the river north, heading for Rauros. Aragorn was hunched over in the saddle, urging his steed forward into the shallows of the stream. They had been riding since late morning and now they heard the crash and roaring of the waterfall and saw the flash of rainbows amid the sunlight. Vapour drifted up from the horizon and, as they breached the hilltop, looked down onto the Falls of Rauros. It was like something out of a fairytale. The waterfall pouring in a silver and cerulean curtain that seemed to be formed out of light itself.  
  
He nudged his heels back into Brégo and the horse trotted down the embankment to the shore. Aragorn slipped from his back and patted his side.  
  
"Thank you, my friend. Loyal Brégo."  
  
The horse snorted and dunked his nose into the water. The man walked upstream to admire Rauros. He was soaked within minutes but he did not care. This looked so unreal to him. Last time he had been here, it had been with heavy heart, knowing that Gandalf was gone and that a great decision was at hand. That was the last time he had seen...the Ringbearer before the war was over. Aragorn forced himself up the steep slope of the waterfall and into the undergrowth at the summit. He climbed a small hill at the centre of the trees and gazed down at the world set out before him. Emin Muil's (sp?) ruined shape stretched out on one side, the jagged rocks in an unrecognisable heap since Mordor's reign had ended. And on the other lay the beautiful Andùin, like a snake that coiled itself round the cliffs and bays of the land.  
  
He climbed down to the wide river basin and for a moment contemplated crossing it, to see if he would find any trace of the battle. But he smiled at his foolishness. Eleven years worth of weathering and erosion would have cleared away any marks left on Amon Hen. Slowly, he made the arduous way back down to join his steed. He mounted Brégo once more and then trotted him round towards the western side and then they cantered away in search of more scattered memories.  
  
--  
  
Gimli yawned and stretched as he climbed up from the hollowed out bed. He clambered to his feet and looked blearily around. He was amazed to find twelve elves standing round him. He fell backwards in shock and the elves laughed quietly, helping him up.  
  
"We are to be your servants during your stay," said one, "We are here to obey your every command."  
  
"No! No! I do not need servants! You're very kind and thank you all but really, I need no special attendance."  
  
"As you wish, sir," the elf replied, bowing low. His companions followed suit and backed away into the trees. Gimli felt a little awkward after that and was not sure when he was entirely alone. He departed back to the palace to find Legolas. Sure enough, the prince was waiting for him. He shook his head with a grin when he saw the dwarf.  
  
"Did you sleep well?"  
  
"Very, thank you, Legolas. But really, you did not need to send your kindred to do my bidding! Very thoughtful but-"  
  
"Gimli, they were all too eager! You are the most amazing thing most of them have ever seen and after all I have spoken of you, I am sure they see you as one of the most precious things on this earth. But forgive me, they will not trouble you again."  
  
The friends moved towards the great towering construction amongst the trees and climbed the steps to Legolas' chambers. They were bare apart from a bed and a huge stack of books piled in one corner.  
  
"Sorry that there is nothing much to show you. But there is little I do. I am quite a dull person to tell you the truth," he apologised. Gimli raised an eyebrow at him.  
  
"Legolas, I have seen you fire a bow in Moria, ride a boat down the Great River, run for days without rest and fight at an impenetrable fortress. You may be annoying, tireless, bitter and unbearably good at everything but you are certainly not dull. Why all these books?" he asked, picking one from the heap. It was very heavy and looked brand new. He turned it over in his hands to look at the cover. In silver cursive writing it said, 'There and Back Again'.  
  
"I brought all of them back from Minas Tirith. Aragorn said that I was welcome to take as many as I wished. So, I did."  
  
Gimli smirked at him and then opened the first page. Concerning Hobbits.  
  
"They certainly concerned me!" he laughed, "And never ceased to amaze me!"  
  
He hoisted himself up onto Legolas' bed and began to flip through the pages. His friend came to sit beside him. He was thinking hard. After some time, he said in contemplative voice,  
  
"I wondered many times if I would ever see our company again. In so many years I have not seen Aragorn, you or the hobbits. Our Fellowship broke into many separate pieces after the quest. Scattered to the winds. I- I wonder...if perhaps it is time for us to come together again. To face each other again and tell each other of all that has happened."  
  
"But it will never be quite the same," Gimli murmured, "Without Boromir, Gandalf and... Well, it wouldn't be the same, would it?"  
  
"Maybe not," Legolas sighed, "Maybe not."  
  
--  
  
The afternoon was cool. Autumn breezes swept along the river. Aragorn lay asleep on the bank, face upturned to the sky. He was dreaming of the past...  
  
The picture rippled before him and it became the Fields of Pelennor, streaked with blood and death. The smell of bitterness in the air. A dark victory. And then, at the mountains beyond, shone a bright light. Aragorn covered his eyes as the glare grew painfully strong. And then, amid its dazzling rays, he made out a figure, garbed in white and carrying a staff.  
  
"Gandalf," he breathed, running towards him. The wizard towered above him, gazing down with calm, stony eyes.  
  
"Do you know what you are searching for, King Elessar?" he boomed. The man faltered in his step.  
  
"I thought I did. But now, I am not sure. I feel something growing."  
  
"The Fellowship will be united again. Many are returning. But you must help them arrive. Do everything in your power to bring them back. If you are so unsure of your path, then turn to the one that you trusted long ago. And you will see them all again."  
  
Aragorn bowed his head. And Gandalf began to fade out of existence. His old eyes sparkled and he dipped the staff down to touch the man lightly on his shoulder.  
  
"A shadow has returned. But the light remains." --  
  
Aragorn woke suddenly and found he had rolled down the bank into the shallows of the river. His skin was tingling with cold and he got his feet unsteadily. But he now knew that the journey would be continued. Life goes on, even after the climax. He sighed. He knew it in his heart. But he also knew that the company would be brought together again. At last. The Fellowship would be reunited. But how could he bring them back?  
  
They were coming back. 


	9. Recognised

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Lil*bee: Oh be quiet and don't put yourself down. You write lovely reviews so who's to say that your stories aren't that good? I admire people a lot for writing fics about the books rather than the films. I get way too much inspiration from them.  
  
Shirebound: Hehe- glad you liked the line. And I can see how much effort went into all of your stories! They are all fantastic! Unfairly enough. Oh and there will be lots of shadows and darkness in this fic because I tirelessly torture these poor characters. I think I should take a trip to Valinor and find inner peace.  
  
Holly Wood: Yay! I am really pleased you liked that scene, it was lots of fun to write.  
  
MagicalRachel: I loved your Sam POV! It was just so sweet! And thanks for your comments on the spoof. Huggles!  
  
TrueFan: Gandalf, so far, is just a dream. But he's a powerful wizard *wink wink nudge nudge* and works in mysterious ways. Ack! OK, OK, I'm writing, I swear!  
  
  
  
~ Chapter Nine ~  
  
Frodo and Sam waited for Ferdirand to say something for a very long time. After he had gathered his wits together, he bowed low and looked frantically round.  
  
"Mayor Gardener, well, I- I dunno what to say! Your honour, I never expected to be meetin' you."  
  
He doffed his hat and bowed again. Then he shouted loudly, making both friends jump.  
  
"Primrose! Company! Mr Underhill and Mayor Gardener!"  
  
Frodo glanced at Sam out of the corner of his eye.  
  
"Gardener?"  
  
"Underhill?" Sam murmured in response. They stifled their laughter as Ferdirand and wife led them inside.  
  
"Actually, I just came to say that I was leaving today. And to thank you for your kindness at letting me stay here," Frodo exclaimed, "You've really been extraordinary."  
  
"Oh, of course," the farmer mumbled, blushing as he showed them the door again, "Drop by anytime, Mr Underhill. Oh and your honour, of course! Don't- don't mention it"  
  
"G'bye, Mr Underhill," came a chorus of voices from the kitchen. The daughters were waving shyly at him. When he smiled back, they giggled so much that they almost fell over. The companions walked back out into the bright woodland with the husband and wife following close behind.  
  
"Safe trip," Ferdirand called out uncertainly. Frodo and Sam waved farewell and then disappeared into the trees. The couple retreated back into their home and as he closed the door behind him, Ferdirand said,  
  
"I could 'ave sworn I knew his face."  
  
--  
  
"But why change your name?" Frodo asked. Sam did not look at his friend but just shook his head and then said,  
  
"That ain't important right now. I need to know why- no. No, that's the wrong question. Mister Frodo, how much do you remember?"  
  
"I don't know. It is as if, everything is on the verge of my mind, just a step away from me remembering everything! But it only comes back in pieces. I know you. And I never forgot you." He turned to Sam at this and their eyes met. "You must understand that, Sam. I never forgot you, not ever. It's just there are some things that take a while to get back."  
  
"Tell me all you do remember then," his comrade said quietly. Frodo paused in thought as they stepped over a fallen tree branch in the path. There were puddles everywhere, left over from the recent downpours. To be honest, Frodo did not even know where he was going with Sam. But the elation at just being with him for enough. So he decided to make the very most of his company. Not that he was planning on leaving his side ever again, that is.  
  
"I- I remember being on a long beach with pure white sand. Someone was watching me on a cliff overhead. And I had made, or at least I think I made, a raft. Using things I had gathered from around my- around where I lived. It took ages, I remember that. And then, I just pushed off. I left there, for good I intended. And I was out there for days, no food or water. But then, I had grown used to not needing it. Anything. I just slept. My body just went on working by itself and then I woke up, knowing only what I have told you and remembering what it felt like to be, well, to be.. what's the word? Mortal."  
  
Sam was at a loss for words. He stopped dead in his tracks and he suddenly knew what had been gnawing at the edges of his mind. Frodo had not aged. Not at all. He was just as he had been since he had left the Grey Havens. Eleven years takes its toll on a person but Frodo looked none the different. Just as he had been before. Frodo looked back at his friend.  
  
"Sam?"  
  
"Nothing, Mister Frodo. I just- in all my dreams of you coming back, well, I used to pretend all the time, in the first months- I expected it to be just as it was on the beach. Just you standing there and then me throwin' my arms round you and telling you how much I'd missed you. But, I thought you would be exactly the same. You're like a, no offence meant, but, you're like a ghost. One of my memories just standing there, in front of me. Except, you didn't even recognise me at first."  
  
Frodo walked back to him and put out his hands to Sam's face. He smiled at him.  
  
"Sam, I still am Frodo. I am still the same. All those things are still in my head. The things that happened to me. They are still there! It'll just take time for me to see them again."  
  
Sam frowned and looked away.  
  
"You really don't remember anything, do you?"  
  
"I had a nightmare. It... felt real but it was all so terrifying and here I am," he spread his arms, taking in the scenery around them, "In this beautiful place. How could anything so dark as a mountain of fire have ever been anywhere near a place like the- the-"  
  
"Shire, sir."  
  
And Sam knew it had come back. The shadow had returned.  
  
--  
  
The man gazed down at the people around him. What had the king called them? Hobbits, that was it. They were looking up at him stonily.  
  
"What somethin' like you tall'n doin' 'ere in 'Obbiton?" asked one.  
  
"P-pardon?" the man replied nervously, clutching at the horse's reigns, "I am sorry but I only came here on orders. I come seeking news."  
  
"News? In the Shire? Last time we 'ad news, that Mad Old Baggins went an' destroyed the Dark Lord and then a white wizard came and threw down our mill and burnt our Party Tree. Nay, we don't like news comin' 'ere. You won't find nothin' of that sort 'ere. You can 'ead over to Buckland where the strange folk are and p'r'aps they'll 'ave something of int'rest for you. Master Peregrin and Master Meriadoc are always the ones lookin' for adventure."  
  
The poor confused man could only pick out a few names from this that he recognised.  
  
"I have heard of them! They are the ones in the Fellowship, were they not?"  
  
"Aye," chorused back at him and he jumped. He had briefly met Peregrin at Cormallen. He had not been half as intimidating as these hobbits. Maybe he would be able to help him.  
  
"Th-thank you very much, all. Um, would it be, er, possible if any...one could lead...me to Master Peregrin..." his voice trailed off as he was almost dragged away from his horse and off down a path.  
  
--  
  
"What's that noise?" asked Frodo. He was leaning against a tree and rubbing his aching feet. Sam glanced up from where he was sitting and strained his ears.  
  
"Sounds like hobbits to me. Lots of 'em. I wonder why."  
  
They looked at each other and then found themselves in the midst of Hobbiton's residents. Just about everyone was there and at the centre they were pulling along a bewildered looking man. They stopped in a huddle underneath the trees when they saw Sam and Frodo.  
  
"Oh, hullo, yer honour," the leader said with a grin, "We heard you went off to the Grey Havens. Back already?"  
  
"Um, yes. Who's that you've got with you?"  
  
"This 'ere's someone lookin' for news. So we're takin' him to Buckland. 'Ere...yer honour, who's that? I think I know him." He was pointing at Frodo as he said it. All at once, the man fell down to his knees and bowed his head. He looked up again to the startled hobbits and over to where Frodo and Sam stood gaping at him.  
  
"The Great Ringbearer and Lord Samwise! I am humbly at your service."  
  
Everyone looked towards Frodo who had gone very pale. 


	10. The Words of Winter

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Crazytook: Sam's last name appeared in the book too. And that always fascinated me. For all the many reasons he might have done it. I could not include it in Lost in Moria or Trials of Lórien but now it can come in here. Glad these chapters are intriguing you!  
  
The Lazy Fairy: Yay- you like! I am really enjoying writing this story- it is making every day brighter for me. I just came back from a) a Latin test b) wood c) equivalent fractions *gags* d) lots of dull German and e) indoor Netball. But I now return dreamily to the computer to finish this chapter. My mate gave me a picture of Elijah today so I'm a little...drool-y.  
  
~ Chapter Ten ~  
  
The rider galloped into Mirkwood and jumped down at the sight of the elves. He put a hand to his breast and bowed.  
  
"I come from Osgiliath in the south, seeking any word or news from the northern realm," he said. A tall, fair elf made his way through the crowd and hailed the man.  
  
"Greetings, stranger. I am Prince Legolas and I have received word of your coming. Come, there is much to discuss."  
  
He was led away towards a great, shining palace amid the trees. There, they opened a door and proceeded to climb a tedious pathway of stairs until they reached a wide chamber. Parts of the trees themselves jutted up through floor, wall and ceiling, the whole trunk of one holding up the very room. Legolas and his guest walked round the obstruction and seated themselves on two white benches opposite one another.  
  
"The king sent you, am I right?"  
  
"That is correct. He wishes to know of all happenings in your realm of Mirkwood. A written account if possible, signed by both yourself and Lord Tharandúil," was the reply. The man was a little unease under the penetrating gaze. But his voice remained bold and he was confident in his task.  
  
"Very well," Legolas said, "That can be arranged. But there has been little to speak of, to tell you the truth."  
  
"That is fine. His highness only wishes for all news over the past few years. Any special events or occasions or...unusual occurrences," he said, repeating the last part stumblingly, trying to recall what his king had said. Legolas smiled at this. Just the sort of thing Aragorn would say. He felt a pang of loss in his heart and tried to stifle it. He really missed him. All of them, really. Gimli's presence was almost unbelievably reassuring. It made him feel as if parts of him were being put back together. The Fellowship had been a moiety of his soul; it had created a whole new life for him. And shown him things he would not have believed possible. He closed his eyes briefly, looking on each face at a time. The Fellowship had been more than friends. They had been bonded to one another, their lives interwoven and stitched into one pattern. The Fellowship- his own band of loyal companions- had been more than that. They had been a family.  
  
"...possibly there will be word from the outposts at Anor..."  
  
Legolas shook himself. The man was still talking. He listened from then on, feeling a little foolish but also sensing a great warmth begin to spread through him.  
  
--  
  
**Valinor. The Undying Lands. They say that Valinor is perfect. There is eternal light for no darkness had ever found its way there. There are no shadows, only colour and unending light. It is pure. The sea is fresh and clear. The land is plentiful. And your home is whatever you wish it to be. A haven for the elves- the undying race. But many other kinds have been accepted there as well.  
  
Galadriel stood on the white shore, gazing across the endless sea. She felt a pull at her heart. Why had he not returned? She knelt down to touch at the long lines that had been dug into the sand, left from the raft. Why had he left?  
  
Elrond stared out at the horizon. He missed the little hobbit deeply. And he feared for him. But fear mostly the news he bore. He would not remember. Not for a very long time. He wondered if he would even remember that he had intended to return.  
  
Bilbo watched the waves fall listlessly on the sandy embankments. He had lost his "nephew" a second time. His beloved cousin and friend had set out again. On yet another quest. He rested his head on the flawless tree bark and let out a long sigh. He wondered if he would ever play a part in the little hobbit's adventures?  
  
Gandalf, however, had climbed to the peak of the tallest mountain and had sat there for many days. No food, drink or rest needed here. Immortality had its points. He was smiling as he looked out to sea. Frodo had known what he had to do. And Gandalf was proud of him.**  
  
--  
  
The sky was beginning to grow whiter. The bright morning had died somewhat into bleak afternoon. A freezing wind swept through the city. If you looked down over the bridge, through the railings, you could see the river below, the waters frozen stiff. And then, if you got to you feet and put out your hand, you would have seen tiny flakes of snow fall into your palm. And then you would know that winter had arrived. September's wrath was about to be unleashed.  
  
Faramir strode briskly onto the bridge, slipping as he did so. Regaining his balance, he wrapped his thick cloak tighter about him and then crossed over to the other side. The snow was growing heavier and strewing the roads with white. His feet crunched on the stone as he ran over to the nearby Inn. The Silver Net. He passed through the door and felt the cold dissipate around him and the warmth of the tavern and the sound of voices close in around him. Faramir shook out his cloak and hung it by the door with the others. He moved to the staircase and almost tripped over in his hurry to reach the next floor. There, he dashed down the corridor and knocked frantically until Aragorn opened it. He was clearly half asleep.  
  
"What ever is the matter, Faramir?" hr mumbled as the man walked past him. He began to pace, wringing his hands and a wild look on his face. Aragorn frowned.  
  
"Look, you just sit down-"  
  
"Sit down! My dear friend, I do not believe you will be capable of such a feat after I give you the news. Aragorn- oh, Aragorn!" Faramir gushed, gripping his friend by the shoulders. "Aragorn, we have had word from the rider in the Shire."  
  
"But how on earth could he get back?"  
  
"From Gwahir the eagle! He brought a message back from our rider who only reached the Shire early morning today. But, Aragorn, what news!"  
  
"What is it? Spit it out then!" the king laughed. Faramir attempted to sit down but could not and so stood up and cleared his throat.  
  
"The Ringbearer...has returned."  
  
--  
  
Aragorn burst out of the Inn door, minutes after Faramir had entered. The other guests watched him go with wide eyes peering over their beer glasses. He wore no cloak and his boots were too small. But there was a manic grin plastered onto his face. He fair sprinted into the tiny stable at the side of The Silver Net.  
  
Brégo was chewing lazily on some oats when he felt a saddle being thrown onto his back. Giving an impatient snort, he allowed his master to straddle him and then settle down into a comfortable position. He nervously backed out of his pen at Aragorn's breathless word. He was pleased to find that the world behind him did exist after all.* Then, he was alarmed to find that Aragorn wanted to sprint. Being a loyal horse, Brégo obeyed and he cantered out of the stable.  
  
"Faster! Faster!" the man shouted over the billowing wind. He followed the glistening river north again, this time on the opposite side to the last time. He galloped harder out of the city gates and spurned out over the pristine fields. His hooves kicked up the snow behind him in a shimmering cloud. And behind him, the horse heard a frantic voice calling,  
  
"Aragorn! Aragorn, what are you doing?!"  
  
~  
  
Wow! That was really fun to write! 


	11. Emáten's Honour

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Lil*bee: Wow! Lucky you! How many times you watched it now? Four, five, a trillion? Happy you enjoyed the last chapter so much!  
  
Shirebound: Hehe. Yeah, poor old Frodo. I never give him a break. I mean, he's being tossed from your story to mine. Avalanche to Lost in Moria, Unlikely Comfort to Trials of Lórien and then onto Whispers of the Dragon. Poor Frodo. Loved the last chapter of Quarantine. My review is a bit stiff and rambl-y, sorry 'bout that. But it truly was magnificent.  
  
MagicalRachel: Torturous and tense- that's what life's all about really isn't it? Thank so much! I think that out of my three fics, this is also my favourite. I have been reading Lost in Moria to my mum in pieces and she keeps bursting into laughter and calling me a sadist. *grumble* Doesn't appreciate me *grumble*  
  
Koko Kung: Wahay, you're back! No secret, just an addiction to Lord of the Rings. Now - when you've read this chapter of course- go and finish that prologue! Muster! Labour! Hehehe  
  
Maygin: What a perfectly wonderful review! It is wonderful to know that I am bringing that sort of enjoyment into your life. Thank you so much for all your beautiful comments- and thank you for taking the time to write such a great review!  
  
Crazytook: Pleased you liked that part. It was a weird "on the spur of the moment" thing. Hehe. I can't help liking Brego. I'm not generally for the humorous animal character but sometimes horses really are like that. It was in this book of facts: a horse does not think that anything out of its line of sight exists. Hope you enjoy!  
  
Elf of Rivendell: I take it that those two gods are from The Silmarillion. I'm so sorry but I could never get into it. *shamed look* An epic, yes but pretty damn hard to read. So that does not really feature. I'm like a horse- all the books out of my line of sight do not exist. Not in this story anyhow. Yay! Aragorn! Heehee.  
  
Helga: Wow! Are you a mythology fan? Me too. And it is sort of like the Lethe. The endless sea. When you cross over it- rather than drink it- you forget many things that you hold dear. Am so pleased that you are enjoying this!  
  
~ Chapter Eleven ~  
  
Sam opened the door to Bag End. He waited for his companions to enter as well but for a time they just stood in the garden. Frodo had his head in his hands and was shaking with pent up mirth. The man- Emáten- was almost on his hands and knees trying to apologise.  
  
"Forgive me, sir! I know not what I do, I mean, did. I never ever imagined that, what, who I would find here. I thought that you left forever! And me falling down like that. Oh, I am so sorry, my lord. I never intended- thought that-"  
  
"Emáten. Be quiet and go inside."  
  
The man almost fell over himself to obey, bowing and retreating at the same time. Sam had to put a hand over his mouth at the sight of his master doubled up behind, choking on laughter.  
  
When all of them were inside, Sam took their cloaks and gear and hung them up at the side while calling,  
  
"Rose, love, I'm back!"  
  
"I know," his wife called back, "I'm in the kitchen!"  
  
"Rosie, could you come here a moment? We've...guests."  
  
Obediently, she came out of the kitchen and the trio could hear her light footfalls approaching. There was a small cry and the smash of crockery. Rosie put up her hands to her face, ignoring the shattered plate on the floor. Then, without warning, she ran down the corridor and threw her arms round Frodo. She was sobbing fit to burst.  
  
"Oh, Mister Frodo Baggins, you are by far the most despicable hobbit I've ever met in my entire life! Going off and letting us deal with all the housework and chores. Oh, you came back! You came back!"  
  
She backed away, her hands still on his face as she examined him sternly. He smiled at her, brushing away her tears and trying to hold back his own. And she made it quite easy to remember her. She beamed back at him, laughing through her tears. Then she whirled round to give her husband a kiss hello. But it suddenly occurred to her what a state she was in and she moved backwards, wiping her face and dusting her apron.  
  
"Dear me," she sniffed, "M'terribly sorry, sir. I completely forgot you there. Come on in and my Sam will see you to our sitting room. Come on, Sam. Take...take Frodo with you."  
  
Rosie cast her eyes back to her old friend, tears beginning to pour anew down her face. "Oh, dear, Mister Frodo," she breathed. And then she ran away back to the safety of her kitchen. Emáten let himself be taken into a large low room and into an armchair that seemed to grip round his middle. But he was too awe-struck to be in the presence of the famous Ringbearer to say a single word. He watched as Frodo gazed round at the room, seemingly lost in a trance. Sam touched him on his shoulder. There was a smile on his face.  
  
"We kept it just the same. Your old room upstairs has only seen Rosie's duster since you left. Would you like to see?"  
  
"Very much so!" Frodo cried and then remembered something. "Emáten, you don't-"  
  
"Not at all," the man said quickly, feeling the heat rise to his cheeks. Frodo smiled at him and then looked to his friend.  
  
"Sam...I- I need to do this alone. I'm sorry, it's just, well...it's been so very long."  
  
"'Course not, Frodo. Go ahead."  
  
With that, the hobbit raced out of the chamber and they heard him hurriedly climbing the stairs. When he was gone, Emáten turned to Sam, a little nervous.  
  
"Lord Samwise, I do not think I quite understand."  
  
"Well, you can understand that you shouldn't be callin' me Lord. Sam will do nicely, thank you."  
  
The man winced and lowered his gaze.  
  
"Sorry...Sam. But, would you mind if I asked you a question?"  
  
"Not at all," the hobbit replied, sitting himself down on a small stool by the desk. "Calm down. Stop getting' yourself all worked up. It's not like you're in front of a king."  
  
Emáten blushed but made no comment at this. He had been taught by all his friends and family that the Ringbearer and his companions had been more than kings. They were heroes. They had given up everything to defend Middle- Earth from darkness. Oh. They were so much more than kings.  
  
"Well," he said, knotting his fingers in his lap, "It's just...do you have a lot of friends that are giant golden eagles?"  
  
"Goodness no! That was Gwahir. He's Gandalf's friend and he's helped us many times."  
  
"You helped the Lord Ringbearer many times," the man offered with a small smile. Sam returned it but then his face creased back into a frown and he sighed.  
  
"Don't take no offence at this, Emáten, but you can't call my master that. He- I don't think he remembers it yet. And I don't- I don't want to.."  
  
"Bring it back," Emáten finished. "But, sir- Sam- you mentioned little enough to the hobbits back there about it. I still do not understand. Why did he forget? When people know that he has returned then, well, it will be a surprise to know that he hardly remembers any of it. Did he remember you?"  
  
"Things are coming back to him slowly. When he's reminded of things and the like. He didn't know my face, at first-" Sam took in a shuddering breath at the memory. "But he said that he never forgot me- it's just some thoughts got stacked away or lost, if you take my meaning. And he doesn't remember nothin' about where he came from or what he's doing here. But don't you worry, sir, he'll be alright soon."  
  
The man could tell there was a lot less confidence in this statement than Sam made out. And he heard the pain in his voice when he mentioned his reunion with Frodo. "He didn't know my face." He could have no idea how much that hurt Sam now. The hobbit had been too engrossed in his fear and anger at the time but afterwards, it had struck his soul deeply. The weight of eleven years crushing him. And yet Emáten could see the love in Sam's eyes when he looked upon his master. That devotion and friendship. He wondered if perhaps he would ever find a companion like that. Someone willing to die for you.  
  
And then to know that Frodo had forgotten. However briefly. The fire of the Ring was not tormenting his mind now and he was at home, in his room, with his dearest friend close by. Ignorance was bliss.  
  
~  
  
Short, I know. Sorry! But this is only the beginning, my friends... 


	12. Truths Revealed

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Lil*bee: Hehe *blush* T'ank oo! Glad you're enjoying it!  
  
Radia: Nah, lots of people haven't read the book. I forced myself to read it before the movies and it had been running round the house, screaming, crying and laughing at the same time. Trust me, that *really* scared my parents. Don't worry, there will be lots of Aragorn and Frodo scenes to come. The heroes together. Ahh  
  
Holly Wood: I thought people would be annoyed that this was only the beginning! It is going to be a long fic- longer than any other project - to boldly go where no other has gone before - it may even be in parts! Yay! I am so pleased you like Sam!  
  
Crazytook: I really look forward to your reviews! I know, poor old Ematen, I give him such a hard time. He's just eager to please. And maybe Frodo will get more memories when he mates arrives. Hehe  
  
????: OK, I'll do just that. Mental note: More Rosie and Frodo. I never saw her as resentful of him. I mean, I reckon she's bright enough to know that Frodo did not drag Sam out to Mordor and that Sam went of his own accord- d'aw, that part gave me chills! Shame you didn't like the movie Faramir. I thought that was a nice touch. But yeah, I'm trying to make all the characters more book-y. I'll stick to your request on that one. And by the way, your ramblings make my day!  
  
Truefan: *stares at review* Whoa. That is a long review, man. D'aw, poor old Dylan- I didn't say I liked Morgan better- just the name. And why doesn't he know who Ailsa is?! Dear oh dear. And I'm writing, writing! Er...Write like the...longshore drift, Ailsa! *hits head until Geography topples out of ear and onto keyboard- Ailsa picks up mallet and smashes it- Ailsa smiles (revealing fangs) and continues to write*  
  
Thank you so much for the reviews everybody! They have all been especially nice recently! Note: When it says- "And-read this part-" look away all those who have not read the book until the extract ends. I do not want to spoil that part for any reader. Just telling you now that it is a hell of a nasty extract.  
  
~ Chapter Twelve ~  
  
Storm was brewing. The autumnal storms that boiled in the sky and turned the clouds black. This was threatening to be the sort of weather that drowned ships, uprooted trees, tore the landscape to shreads. The sort of weather that rumbled and crashed and made you quake to even leave the door of your home. The sort of weather that made you fear for your life.  
  
--  
  
The rider departed from Mirkwood by the morning light. He was carrying a carefully bound and signed scroll in his saddle bag at his side. The elves watched him until his horse had dipped out of sight.  
  
Legolas and Gimli were silently reading in the royal chambers. The prince sitting straight-backed against the tree that broke through the floor and the dwarf trying vainly to get comfortable on one of the thrones. Legolas had There and Back Again open on his lap, his eyes flicking over his favourite paragraph in the story. He had read the battered volume perhaps five times now and still this part jumped out at him.  
  
^ 'Good morning!' said Bilbo, and he meant it. The sun was shining, and the grass was very green. But Gandalf looked at him from under long bushy eyebrows that stuck out further than the brim of his shady hat.  
  
'What do you mean?' he said. 'Do you wish me a good morning, or mean that it is a good morning whether I want it or not; or that you feel good this morning; or that it is a morning to be good on?'  
  
'All of them at once,' said Bilbo. 'And a very fine morning for a pipe of tobacco out of doors, into the bargain. If you have a pipe about you, sit down and have a fill of mine! There's no hurry, we have all the day before us!' ^  
  
He smiled to himself. He wished he had met Bilbo. Before he passed over the seas and out of all knowledge. He was certainly a talented writer! And linguist. And cousin. Legolas let out a sigh and closed the book with a quick snap. Bilbo must have been a wonderful "uncle" for Frodo, he thought wistfully. To bring up such an extraordinary child into someone so strong and compassionate. When looked upon, it really did seem quite incredible. Gimli snorted and the elf glanced up. He was squirming uncomfortably in his seat, his own book discarded on the floor.  
  
"Gimli," Legolas grinned as he went to retrieve the copy. He picked it up and paused to look at the title.  
  
"I found it," the dwarf said proudly, straightening up, "In the library. Your father said it had just arrived from Minas Tirith."  
  
"Really? What is it about?"  
  
"It is our story, Legolas," was the strange reply. Legolas looked up, frowning.  
  
"What do you mean 'our story'?" he asked in puzzlement.  
  
Gimli smirked and climbed down to take the book from his hands. He flipped through until he found the page he wanted. It read: The Fellowship of the Ring.  
  
"The Fellowship," Legolas breathed, touching the words lightly with his fingers as if they were made of mithril. "They- they wrote it all down? Our journey?"  
  
"From even before that. Bilbo's adventure comes before and then comes ours. I found out all that happened before we met up with the hobbits. They truly met almost every peril. I read everything! About Moria, Lórien and...what happened after Frodo and Sam left us. It was terrible. Emyn Muil, Ithilien. And- read this part..."  
  
Legolas put his eyes to the page and, half to himself, read the excerpt aloud.  
  
" Frodo gave a cry, and there he was, fallen upon his knees at the chasm's edge. But Gollum, dancing like a mad thing, held aloft the ring, a finger still thrust within its circle. It shone now as if verily it was wrought of living fire... And then at last over the miles between there came a rumble, rising to a deafening crash and roar; the earth shook, the plain heaved and cracked, and Orodruin reeled. Fire blenched from its riven summit. The skies burst into thunder seared with lightning... 'Your poor hand!' Sam said. 'And I have nothing to bind it with, or comfort it. I would have spared him a whole hand of mine rather. But he's gone now beyond recall, gone for ever.'  
  
'Yes,' said Frodo. 'But do you remember Gandalf's words: Even Gollum may have something yet to do? But for him, Sam, I could not have destroyed the Ring. The Quest would have been in vain, even at the bitter end. So let us forgive him! For the Quest is achieved, and now all is over. I am glad you are here with me. Here at the end of all things, Sam.'"  
  
The friends looked at each other. This brought it truly home to them what the hobbits had gone through. After the War, they had seen Frodo, awake and smiling, with nothing but faint tell-tale injuries to remind them of his suffering. But they could not have seen what went on inside his head. That burning wheel that forever twisted and glowed that, its shadow deeply imprinted into his mind. An orb of powerful light that cast doubt over his soul and broke his very spirit. That was why he left. That was why he sought for peace in The Undying Lands.  
  
--  
  
Osgiliath was teeming with life. Not only had the king entered once into their city but now the Queen herself had also come. Faramir put up a hand and let the pale fingers enclose around his. Arwen gracefully slipped from her horse's back and dropped to the ground, shaking out her long ebony hair. Before Faramir could speak, she said,  
  
"Captain Faramir, I know that the lord Elessar has left the city." She smiled. "He would already be at my side asking questions if he was."  
  
"So you have heard the news?" the man replied. Arwen nodded. But her face showed little happiness at the reminder.  
  
"I have heard," she said, "But I do not yet know if I will go to the Shire."  
  
"My lady?"  
  
"Frodo will remember little. The Endless Sea has lifted many troubles from his shoulders. They are not gone. They are not forgotten. But many things- people, places- will be hard for him to remember. I do not think it wise to relive too many memories at one time. I do not think that Aragorn should have gone."  
  
"Why ever not?" cried Faramir. Arwen turned and started walking along the path beside the river. She stopped at one point to gaze into the iced over waters. Silver trails criss-crossed at the edges and a faint mist was rising across its clear surface.  
  
"Because," she said softly, "He will remember the Ring." 


	13. Shadows

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Shirebound: I always wondered what sort of healing it would be and reckoned that it would to forget. I thought that might be why so few people came back. Well, er, one came back. I am so sorry! Arg! I knew I would get something wrong. Of course he met Bilbo. Maybe only fleetingly but...oh! Damn!  
  
The Lazy Fairy: Oh, you don't need to bow- you send me lovely reviews!  
  
MagicalRachel: I'm always calling my mum unsupportive but I guess that she doesn't want me to get too big for my boots. Glad you liked the extracts- they were fun to do. I'm sorry! I didn't mean to echo what you're doing! Post it on Fanfiction! Post it!  
  
TigerLily713: Thank you! I'm writing, I'm writing. My life consists of bus, school, car, TV, homework, WRITING WRITING, food, bed, repeat. There must be more but only every twelve millennia or so.  
  
TrueFan: *gazes at review* That...? *shuddering sigh* I fear your longer ones! My word- that review is huge! I'm pleased that you enjoyed the part with Legolas and Gimli- I liked the idea of them just lounging around the royal chambers, reading, generally being friends. Oh and that Arwen part, well, I like it when she says lots of meaningful stuff. Not many people like her in the movie but I thought she was nice in the book, so what if she got a bit extra. And thank you so much for including me on your Favourite Authors page! That is really sweet and I don't deserve it. No, I've never got a real flame, though the ever famous The Evil Old Woman did criticise one of my pieces though. Thank you for signing my guest-book!  
  
????: Ah, that's alright. I just think that if people take the time to read my stories and comment on them then it's the least I can do to answer. I see what you mean about Faramir, the movie did not see him as quite as heroic as in the book. Just a little depressed. And yes, your ideas are great! More Rosie "slush" to come!  
  
Holly Wood: Teehee. If you read the reviews for Lost in Moria, you'll see that almost every single one mentions my cliffhangers. I've been attempting to avoid them so far but you know, sometimes I can't resist. ;-)  
  
Helga: Yeah- its fun to catch a fic while it's going. And I am so pleased that it makes so many people happy. It is just an amazing amount of fun!  
  
~ Chapter Thirteen ~  
  
Emáten had slept very little. Not only was it the thought of sharing the same house as the Ringbearer but also the bed was too small for him. Now he sat on the edge of the mattress, feeling it sag alarmingly beneath him. I must be the luckiest man alive, he thought, I have found the Ringbearer after so many years. I have spoken with a Golden Eagle and been given refuge by Lord Samwise himself...Sam, I must remember to call him Sam.  
  
There was a knocking on the door. He looked up.  
  
"Come in."  
  
A small face peered round the door; her sky-blue eyes lit up. Emáten smiled at her and she darted behind the door only to return a few minutes later. She walked into the room and cocked her head on one side, examining the man.  
  
"Mummy told me about you," she said.  
  
"Oh? And what did she say?"  
  
"That I wasn't to disturb you and that you were very tall."  
  
"Do you agree with her?  
  
"Well, you're definitely tall," the hobbit-lass said with conviction, climbing up onto the bed beside him. "And I don't know if I'm disturbing you. Am I?"  
  
"Not at all," Emáten smiled. "Who are you?"  
  
"I'm Elanor and I'm nine and I live at Bag End and my daddy is Samwise Gardener," she replied in one breath. Growing bored with sitting still, she crawled across to play with his hair. She had just begun to plait it when there came another knock.  
  
"Come in," called Emáten, standing up. Rosie came in, bearing a tray of drinks and breads. She blinked at the sight of her guest, braids hanging limply at his head and then looked at her daughter.  
  
"Honestly, Elanor," she cried, setting the tray down then crossing her arms, "I told you not to go disturbing Master...er..."  
  
"Emáten, milady," he said hesitantly. Rosie blushed.  
  
"Oh now, you needn't be calling me a lady. Now come on, Ellie, let Master Emáten get changed."  
  
Elanor obeyed and slipped off the bed to follow her mother out the door. She paused and then turned back to wave at her strange new man. He beamed and waved back.  
  
--  
  
"Mister Frodo," Sam called quietly, knocking on the door. There was no answer so he gently pushed the door open. His master's clothes lay folded neatly up on a chair nearby. The untidy desk had been cleared and organised. Everything looked so much brighter than when he had last entered. It was as it had always been, before Frodo had gone on the quest. When he had come home, he had concentrated on little else but finishing his book, uncaring of anything else. And he never did. Frodo had left the last few pages for Sam alone. It had been his task to write The End.  
  
"That was wrong," Sam mused as he walked into the room, "'Cos it ain't the end. He came back. There's still more story to write down."  
  
He deposited the tray he was carrying onto the desk and went to sit on the chair by Frodo's bed. His master was asleep, his face pale against the white of the pillows. He looked peaceful for the moment but Sam noticed a sheen of perspiration on his brow. And the blanket had been tossed aside and onto the floor. Frowning, he bent to pick it up but as he did so, Frodo issued a low moan. He looked up and saw his friend's face beginning to twitch and his whole body tense.  
  
"Mister Frodo?" he said quietly.  
  
But the hobbit was still lost under the waves of sleep. He suddenly cried out and a shudder passed through him. Frodo began to toss and turn, breathing shallow. Sam was terrified.  
  
"No, not this," he breathed, "Please not this."  
  
He shook his master fervently but nothing would wake him. His hand went slowly up to his neck.  
  
"No, Frodo! Not this! Not this!" Sam screamed, tearing the hand away. He heard running footsteps and looked up to see Rosie and Emáten standing in the doorway. Frodo sat bolt upright, eyes wide and completely exhausted. He looked round in bewilderment, clutching Sam's arm and shaking as both cold and hot flared in his veins.  
  
"It- it didn't happen...it can't have happened," he whispered.  
  
"You were just dreaming, Mister Frodo," Sam soothed taking his friend into his arms, "It's all over now."  
  
--  
  
There was a heavy knocking at Merry's door.  
  
"Pippin," the hobbit groaned, "You get it."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because you've been living here for two weeks and it's time you pulled some weight."  
  
"...You can't be bothered, can you?" Pippin let out an exaggerated sigh. "Alright, alright, I'll get it."  
  
Scraping food from his teeth, he wandered over to the door and pulled back the latch. He opened the door and found several hobbits on his doorstep.  
  
"Hello?" he said, a little confused.  
  
"Hello," the leading hobbit said with conviction, "May we come in?"  
  
Pippin leaned back from the door.  
  
"Can someone come in, Merry?"  
  
When there was no reply, Pippin returned with a smile.  
  
"Yes."  
  
The hobbits trailed inside and closed the door behind them. Their spokesman, Delver, promptly seated himself on an armchair. Merry emerged from the kitchen and the two friends stood together, arms folded, towering over their smaller kin.  
  
"There is news in the Shire," Delver said matter-of-factly.  
  
"At last," Merry said out the corner of his mouth. Delver glared at him and he blushed.  
  
"There is news," the hobbit went on, "And I know that it is true for I have seen the ones who saw *him* for themselves. *He* has returned."  
  
"*He*?" Pippin asked.  
  
"The Ringbearer," Delver said in exasperation. There was a long silence. The sort of silence that is like a stone falling over a waterfall. Then it crashed into the pool below. Pippin and Merry grabbed each other's arms and began dancing wildly in circles, laughing and crying at the same time. They drew back, expressions of pure astonishment on their faces.  
  
"He came back," Pippin breathed.  
  
"He really did. That's what we've been waiting for. That's what we've been sensing," his friend hiccuped with laughter. "Get your coat, Pip. We're leaving now."  
  
"Shouldn't you get changed first?" Delver snapped with the underlying tone of 'shouldn't you be thanking me?'  
  
"No time for that!" Pippin cried, hefting his coat on over his nightgown.  
  
"Got to go!" Merry said. And then they were gone. With nothing more than a few swirls of snowflakes on the doorstep and two sets of footprints left on the icy ground. 


	14. Ghost of Frodo

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Shirebound: Really pleased that you are enjoying this! And I am also pleased that you started another story. Hooray! It is just so beautiful  
  
Crazytook: Tisk, tisk! Aragorn the meddler. Honestly. I know, I'm a bit of a depressing person. I have not cut my hair since I was six but I just did it yesterday. I was excited at that. It's depressing. But yay- you like! Poor Frodo...  
  
Koko Kung: Oh hush up! Stop putting yourself down and write! There will be more Mez and Pipz appearing soon. It's up to them to burrow down and find the lighter side of this story- if there is one. Hugs to you and Yum-Yum!  
  
MagicalRachel: *grumble* You never told me about that fic before and it was fantastic! No, I cannot kill Frodo- I value your reviews too much. I never have written a death fic (well, I've written several near-to-death-aka- poison fics) and I doubt I'll ever have to courage to. I think you're right- the two fics are separate. Yours is just so good! Woohoo- is halfterm that near? Yay!  
  
TrueFan: Lotta rambles- yay! Teehee. Yeah, I like braiding people's hair...the people don't but I do. I also play with people's ears but that's different. As I said, Mez and Pipz will be appearing more often, yes. My email, btw, is pinkskittlessociety@hotmail.com- I'll send you a message  
  
????: Elanor did have blue eyes. Her title is Elanor the Fair. I got something right! I am so glad you like Ematen. I reckon in the southern realms, they're being taught that the Fellowship were pretty damn heroic. Well, I'm sure that Aragorn saw to it. :-) The Evil Old Woman is a fanfic author here and she is renowned for her criticism. She is scary, man! Not unjust, just scary. I liked Arwen's character in the movie, yes. Replacing Glorfindel was not great but I don't think she ruined or changed anything. No, I'm not Liv Tyler's biggest fan. My friend says she looks like a duck.  
  
Elf of Rivendell: *Amanda Burton-style smile* All will be revealed soon, my friend. The quest...whatever it is...will soon come to light.  
  
Tiggivon: Thank you! I am delighted that you're enjoying it!  
  
79 reviews?? Whoa! Plus, I have finally downloaded the Return of the King countdown from Countdown.com. It has a pic of Frodo and Sam in Barad-Dur! Not only that but I found a pic of Frodo holding up the phial of Galadriel in Shelob's lair- it is fantastic! Email me if you would like the link. Oh yes and anyone who loves Sam and Frodo non-slash fics, visit Skye on FF.net and read Webs of Madness and Can the Heart Forget? They are truly magnificent!  
  
~ Chapter Fourteen ~  
  
Aragorn could hear voices in his head. They were driving him forward. He could not remember rest. Just a constant urging winding round and round his mind, forcing him ahead, screaming so loudly that he thought it would shake him from Brégo's back. But on his rode. Faster and faster. The mouths of the Entwash stretched out before him, their silvery tails curving away to the western horizon. The sky was grey and there was a faint rumbling. It began to hail later that morning. It was the twenty-sixth day. The time was failing for passage to the north. Frost's chill hand would be crawling towards him right now and he would be trapped. And he would not make it through. He would not make it to the Shire.  
  
--  
  
Frodo took the tea gratefully from Emáten's hand and gulped down the hot liquid. He kept his eyes on the table. He could not meet the gaze of his friends. Sam sat nearby, refusing to speak of such matters and concentrating only on his breakfast. But it sent shivers down his spine and throbbed in his head. Rosie was washing up- or attempting to. She had broken two plates already with her shaking hands. At last, she could stand it no longer. She put her elbows on the sink edge and rested her head in her hands, letting out a great sigh. Frodo shook his head.  
  
"I'm- I'm sorry," he said very quietly.  
  
"There's naught to be sorry for, Mister Frodo," Sam said sharply, before either his wife or Emáten could say more. But Rosie turned on him angrily.  
  
"Stop lying to him, Samwise! He's got to know sooner or later!"  
  
Emáten bristled but said nothing. He knew what Sam was feeling. He knew and he pitied him. Sam did not speak either. Frodo was looking at them both in wonder. Rosie's eyes were blazing as she glared at her husband and Sam merely averted his gaze.  
  
"Tell me what?" Frodo whispered.  
  
Rosie opened her mouth but Sam stopped her.  
  
"Don't you dare!" he cried, voice cracking. He got to his feet and pointed a finger at her. "Don't do it. He don't have to know, ever. Do you want him to go through it all again? Want him to get ill every year until he can't go on no longer? I'm not losing Frodo to that Thing again."  
  
There were unshed tears in his eyes and he was trembling now. He let in a quavering breath, waiting. But Rosie shook her head.  
  
"Something this big can't stay hidden forever, Sam. Would you rather he heard it from someone else?"  
  
"You weren't there!" Sam cried. His voice was high now and the tears were flowing unchecked down both cheeks. "You didn't see all that darkness! Didn't see what he became! He was someone else! And I swore that once I got him home I'd look after him proper. I failed him so many times out there and I paid for it fair enough. We got home. After all that toil and pain we made it! But It haunted us the rest of our lives and he was not my master. He was the hobbit I failed! And he had to leave for the Undying Lands because of it. But now both him and me have been given another chance! And we don't need that wretched Thing to go on living a normal life. He's back. And I won't let you take that chance away!"  
  
Frodo was looking up at his friend. He felt a deep foreboding growing inside him. A dark memory flowing round the edges of mind like an impassable moat. And he did not want to jump into those evil waters and find out what secret that contained. Then Emáten was leading him away and up the stairs. He glanced back to see Sam sitting on his chair once more, head buried in his hands and Rosie at his side.  
  
Upstairs, the man guided him back into his room and sat him down on the bed. Emáten closed the door behind him and then went to sit beside him.  
  
"I'm sorry," he mumbled, "But I could not bear to see them argue over you like that."  
  
"I know. I must have been very special to Sam once," Frodo replied, a little distantly.  
  
"You are still special to him, sir. Did you not see how angry he got- to protect you?"  
  
"Not me, Emáten," Frodo said sadly, "I'm not the same hobbit as he knew once. I left behind someone very special. Someone who meant something. I'm just a strange new arrival in the Shire," he finished with a smirk. But it faded from his lips. The man felt at a loss. This was the Ringbearer, he knew that. But he still agreed with Sam. Why cause Frodo pain when it could be avoided?  
  
"No. You are still Frodo Baggins. You are still Sam's best friend."  
  
"I think Rosie was right," the hobbit said, "I think Sam should have told me. Without those memories- I'm not the same. I cannot bring anything to light. I do not want to know what it is they speak of. The thing that brought me so much pain and makes Sam so angry. But I know that eventually, I will need to. It- it's as if the memory of that one thing is the key to all the others. Just with its name I will be able to recall all the other things too. But now, I've only a scatter of people and places from the past. Emáten," he said, turning to the man beside him, his blue eyes pleading, " Emáten, I don't want to have to forge a whole new existence when I already have one. I do not want to go through my life with the knowledge that there is so much that I have forgotten. Emáten, please...can you tell me?"  
  
"No, sir. I cannot. I told Sam that I would not. And...I think that if anyone was to tell you of your past, then it would be Sam, not me."  
  
Frodo sighed heavily.  
  
"I suppose then I shall never know. And I will go on making people unhappy and resentful because of me. I remember doing that before. Thousands of people...hating me. All across the world. Hating me more than anyone else."  
  
"But you also made millions more happy. Made them smile and be glad. Frodo, I hold a great respect for you. Above all others. And so do my kin. Maybe...maybe if you went there- to my home- then a few more memories would come back. And you would not have to hear of- well, the Thing. Would you come? Back with me to the South?" Emáten asked hopefully.  
  
"Yes," the hobbit said with a smile, "That would be wonderful. I do not know what Sam would think- but yes. If it would help bring back any memories then it is for the best."  
  
Emáten sighed inwardly. This may be the answer to many questions. It would take Frodo's mind off the more pressing matters. It was an idea. And anything that might save the Ringbearer's mind was worth every step. 


	15. The Storm Unleashed

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Lil*bee: Wonderful! I'm so happy that you're enjoying this!  
  
Tiggivon: I'm sorry that my reviews to you are not as long as the others but this is just a general big-hug-thank-you for all your reviews to me in all my stories. You are just a marvel- thank you so much!  
  
~ Chapter Fifteen ~  
  
"We're leaving?" Gimli asked. Legolas stopped to look at him. The dwarf was pacing back and forth, wringing his hands in a restless fashion.  
  
"But- I don't understand," he said, spinning round. The elf grinned at him as he pulled the drawstrings of his pack tight.  
  
"You know as well as I do that we need to head south," he answered plainly, "It is time to visit Aragorn and band together again. Maybe we will get to see the hobbits again. Even you must admit that it has been far too long. The past eleven years are the longest I have ever spent. And though I may live a thousand more, I will only have a few more chances to see him again. I thought I would never see you again, friend."  
  
Gimli let out a grumbling sigh as he was handed his own satchel. Then he pointed accusingly at his companion.  
  
"Your father? What will he think?"  
  
"I will speak to him. Why do you not take advantage of those elves that wished to serve you before? Ask if they would get my horse ready."  
  
"A horse?" Gimli said sharply, "You expect me to go on one of those mangy beasts?"  
  
"If you expect to get to the southlands, yes. Do not worry, my friend, I will tell him beforehand not to throw you from his back or attack you in the middle of the night."  
  
"Humph!" the dwarf snapped and left the room.  
  
Legolas smiled then shouldered his pack and quickly climbed some steps to his father's chamber. He knocked gently upon the surface. Doors. They only kept people out when you should embrace them.  
  
"Tulya!" Tharandúil called.  
  
The prince opened the door and walked inside. His father was sitting in one of the straight-backed chairs, a list of elvish characters in his hand. He smiled when his son entered the room.  
  
"Legolas," he cried, getting to his feet, "What have you come to speak to me about?"  
  
"Father...would you mind if I travelled south? You remember I told you that I was waiting for something to happen? Well, that is where I believe I must go. To satisfy my curiosity and maybe answer my dreams. It would not be for long. I would stay only a few days."  
  
Tharandúil put the parchment down on the chair behind him and walked across to place his hands on Legolas' shoulders.  
  
"My son, you are welcome to do what you will without my command. I am pleased that you still come to me in such matters. I admit that this idea does not appeal to me- with the winter weather growing so strong- but if you trust that the south will ease your mind, then I am willing to let you go."  
  
And then the elf-king did something he had never done before. He threw his arms round Legolas and embraced him.  
  
--  
  
Snow streamed from the sky with terrible force. Like white blades that buried the land under a thick blanket, suffocating it. The sun was a dull orange glowing faintly behind the dank waterfall. Brégo was drenched from mane to tail. He pushed on relentlessly through the drifts that came up to his belly. Aragorn was shivering with cold. He could find no comfort in his sodden clothes and his feet were chafed from his tight boots. He still did not sleep, though it was still a menace roaming in his mind and chanting at his ear.  
  
"Arwen..." he breathed, trying to focus on her face. The clear blue eyes shone at him through the darkness, her face so very beautiful and bright. But she seemed sad and she offered him no words of comfort. Slowly, she melted from view, leaving Aragorn alone in the wilderness of his mind. Brégo stumbled over something buried in the snow and the man slipped from his back. He landed heavily and the breath was knocked from his lungs. The horse lay down promptly, to keep his master from getting chilled. But Aragorn was gazing at the object in the snow. It was the stump of a tree. Hardly that. Just a ring of white wood shining through. Mallorn. He got clumsily to his feet, leaning on Brégo to steady himself. He stared round at the barren wasteland before him. The Misty Mountains at the west and a frozen river sliding down not far away. Hundreds of mallorn tree rings stretched away into the distance. Except for a circle at the very centre. The heart of all Elvendom on earth. Even as he watched, Aragorn saw a rain of leaves come drifting down. Tears poured from his eyes in horror at the desolation before him.  
  
"Lothlórien."  
  
--  
  
Merry and Pippin were very lost.  
  
"We're lost," said Pippin, "What do we do?"  
  
"I wish I knew. We have to get out of this storm, that's for sure," his friend replied. They were both soaked to the bone. They could hardly see in any direction for the air was nothing but a flurry of snow. The wrath of September had been unleashed all across Middle-Earth and the north was forced the endure it. The two hobbits stumbled across to a fallen log and crawled inside its hollowed core to shelter from the weather.  
  
"We should've brought some food," Merry said bitterly, rubbing his hands together.  
  
"What I don't understand is how we lost the road," Pippin replied, "I mean, where did these trees spring up from?"  
  
The other hobbit suddenly jumped, banging his head into the log and crying out. Putting a hand to his throbbing brow, he turned to his companion.  
  
"I know where we are! When we lost the road, you know we tried following that dirt track?" His friend nodded. "Well, it was a path afterall. But it must've lead us right round and back the way we came. These trees are part of the Old Forest. We must be in its very fringes. Now all we have to do is rest here until the storm lets up."  
  
"How can we rest with that gale going on outside?" Pippin said, teeth chattering.  
  
All at once, the log gave a great groan as a gust of wind hit it from the side. It tipped over and the hobbits were thrown over and over as the log rolled down the short embankment, glancing off trees as it fell. Then it stopped, finally caught by the trees. Merry grabbed Pippin's collar and quickly dragged him free of the rotten log. They lay panting outside, nursing their bruises. The wind buffeted them from behind, making them shiver with the almost unbearable cold. Then they heard a voice drifting over the storm. A familiar voice that boomed round and seemed to fill the entire forest.  
  
"Hey dol! Merry dol! Ring a dong dillo! Ring a dong! Hop along! Tom Bom, jolly Tom, Tom Bombadillo!"  
  
And a figure loomed up out of the shadows. As Pippin let the throbbing pain in his head overthrow his senses, he heard Tom's thunder loud voice rumble through the trees.  
  
"Hello? What's this we've got here?" 


	16. One Word

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Mistoffelees: Hehe *blush* D'aw, thank you. Don't worry, I update quite quickly so hopefully you'll have some hair left to read the next chapter  
  
Koko Kung: Yay- go you! Write, Koko, write! Can I see the piccies? Please? Lossa LOTR, mmmmm.  
  
Holly Wood: Ah, there is more suspense to come, my dear. *strokes white cat* Frodo will be, um, shall we say, angst-y in proceeding chapters.  
  
Crazytook: Go Sam- go Sam! *does little known Sam dance* About the south trip, I know, I appear to be sticking another item into this cauldron- hey, what a weird metaphor- but it is to some purpose. I'm flattered that you're willing to trust me on this one.  
  
TrueFan: Hi TrueFan! Huggles! Thank you! I heard that you can get randomness in a jar now...  
  
Elf of Rivendell: Not exactly a wasteland. But there was something that has always intrigued me. "Lothlórien will fade." Because it was made by the elven rings. So it has faded. Ish. Nasty Tom, but I'm going to be tolerant here and let him be nice  
  
MagicalRachel: Don't fret- do you really think Sam's going to let Frodo go without him...? Thank you for the extract. Is so cool! Is so cool! But you just gave me a bit of it- I need it all, man! Come on, don't hold out on me, man! I know, after the Reviewer Spoof, I have mixed feelings towards Tom  
  
Senni: Thank you for the criticism. The Gardener/ Gardner part, yes, I think it was spelt Gardner too but because I am quintessentially English and spelt it a different way. I'm not sure that it is something I will change. I'm very pleased you noticed it but I think either way works. It's my one little streak of originality. Ah- the stairs I can apologise for very much so. I did it purely for the purposes of the story so that Ematen and Frodo could have somewhere peaceful to go. It probably won't be mentioned again and I am sorry if this ruined your enjoyment. But I am very pleased that you liked it otherwise!  
  
Shirebound: I know- I really dislike Tomb Bombadil's character in the story so I've decided to experiment and see if I can learn to like him. He speaks so musically- as if everything has already been written down for him. -Ooh er! I'm happy that you think I am keeping these storylines in check, I just hope I can reign them in so that they start mixing together and I will have a nice uncreased plot.  
  
~ Chapter Sixteen ~  
  
Aragorn pulled aside a giant cobweb that had fallen across the great golden gates of Caras Galadhon. They were rusted and weak and easy to push open. Aragorn's breath caught in his throat. Th last time he had seen this exact view, it had been twinkling with lanterns amid the glorious white and green of the forest. But now it was a dead land. The trees were a dark grey, hollowed and ridged with fungi. Snow layered the ground in great ugly drifts, tossing up the spearheaded leaves into mounds. Not mounds.  
  
They were cairns.  
  
Aragorn moved solemnly towards one of the leafy piles and brushed some of the foliage away. Underneath was a prominence of stones and a slab upon it reading: "Here lies Lómelindë Helkaboriel" in elvish. The man recoiled in horror.  
  
"She stayed? Then- then why did she die? Why did they all die?"  
  
He gazed round at the cemetery around him. It was unbelievable. That such beauty had come to such terrible ruin. All because...of one small ring. A band of gold. But it had contained the very soul of the Dark Lord. It was a living thing. It had ruled for many Ages, biding its time until it was found. And then it had torn the world apart. It had ruined Middle-Earth. It had taken so much death to quell the Ring's power. And even now it was gone, there was so much desolation left behind.  
  
"On, Brégo," Aragorn instructed coldly, remounting his horse. The beast turned about and galloped out of Lothlórien. They rode away towards the Misty Mountains, never looking back. They would never know why those last elves had died.  
  
--  
  
Sam was quiet for a long time. Then he said,  
  
"And you want to go?"  
  
"Yes, Sam," Frodo answered in a low voice. His friend did not speak. But he looked up, eyes filled with sadness. Frodo thought his heart might break.  
  
"Please! I cannot go on like this!" he cried. "Always on the verge of knowing and yet never... Sam, if you do not wish to tell me about the item that brought me so much suffering, then let me at least have questions answered at the south. It will not be long. When I return, I will know more. I will be closer to becoming Frodo again."  
  
"But you are Frodo," Sam said vehemently, "You're here ain't you? It's you, not someone else."  
  
The hobbit shook his head and sighed, sitting down at the kitchen table.  
  
"I might as well be. You know, Sam. I am not the friend that you once knew. I just take his appearance. Maybe someday I will be able to resemble his mind as it was when he left but- but, Sam I am not him. I am just another blank canvas."  
  
"Please, Mister Frodo," Sam choked, taking the pale hands in his darker ones, "Please don't say that. I waited so long for you to come back. Don't tell me that you haven't. Please."  
  
Frodo looked away. With a dejected sigh, he pulled his hands free and got to his feet. He walked over to his old satchel hanging from the hook by the door.  
  
"I must go to the south," he said, keeping his eyes on the floor. Sam put his chin on the table and swallowed back the tears.  
  
"I know, Mister Frodo. And I'm coming too."  
  
Frodo looked up, half a grin forming on his face. Before he could speak, his companion had raised a hand. A frown now creased his face and as he spoke, the lines grew deeper.  
  
"You know, Frodo," he said shakily, "Though you won't remember it- I failed you so many times. You were my master and I failed you. Just like the ninnyhammer I am. I tried to bear that weight off your shoulders but you- you wouldn't let me so I carried you. Carried you right up the sides of a..."  
  
"A mountain of fire. Yes. I do remember. Of all my memories, that's always been the clearest. So tired and thirsty. I was far too weak to go on. And then...you carried me up a mountain of fire. On your back."  
  
"That's why I have to come. That's what I swore I'd always do after I failed you. I'm going to see no harm comes to you nor Emáten. I know Rosie won't like it but...I think she'll understand."  
  
Sam looked up and met his friend's gaze. He sniffed and then left for his own room without another word. Frodo felt a pang of guilt. This was something he had done many times in the past. He felt it. Taking Sam away from all he held dear. This was not right. Sam should not have to look after him all the time when he had a family to look after. Emáten's hand came down on his shoulder and Frodo looked up.  
  
"Why is he doing all this for me?" he asked meekly. The man gave a small smile.  
  
"You're his best friend," he said, "And that's what friends are for. They carry each other."  
  
--  
  
Sam could remember Cirith Ungol. So bright and clear that it pierced the folds of his mind and he could almost see it right in front of him. He could remember that feeling of despair. Looking down into his master's chalk white face, cold and lifeless. He had believed so strongly that Frodo was dead. Utter despair. To think that the quest nearly took away his life. Nearly took him away from Sam. He swallowed and leant heavily on the doorpost. That memory had seared his heart like fire.  
  
That was all he had seen when Frodo had gone. All that he could picture. A lasting image of his companion's face. And it was still there. But he had lived! He had not died! It did not fail. That wash of relief flooded over him as it had done when he found Frodo again. He was downstairs, his eyes open, breath filling his lungs. A living being.  
  
But no more than that. Sam knew. He had the chance of bringing that body back to life. Of finding Frodo again. He could bring it back for his friend. With one word. So small a thing...  
  
"No," Sam said aloud, making himself jump. No. He would not return that agony. That terrible fear. Maybe it was too late? Perhaps it wouldn't even matter? But somehow, Sam knew it would. In the end.  
  
The choices were lying before him. Yet more choices. Decisions that he did not want to be the one to make. Either leave Frodo to piece back his past together... or bring back Frodo the Ringbearer with one word. 


	17. Shattering the Silence

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Shirebound: *sigh* You found me out. I should really tell people that I am immortal before I get to know them. I'm really pleased you liked that part- it was actually quite hard to make Sam say the right things.  
  
Senni: Poor Sam. So many choices and none he wants to make. Glad you're enjoying it!  
  
Koko Kung: You LOST your MUSE? Not Yum-Yum! I'll keep an eye out for her. I know what you mean about the Frodo and Sam thing. But I am a huge fan of both characters and they have very controversial feelings. It's fun to write from Sam's perspective because he's so very loyal! And yes- I would love to see your picture!  
  
MagicalRachel: That chapter is just so sad! I ran round the house screaming because I thought Frodo had...laid aside the quest. Lothlórien, ah- well, because the One Ring was destroyed, all the elven rings had been used to make faded too. Lothlórien was built by the Lady Galadriel and her ring, Nenya. It was just something in the book that always intrigued me. They mentioned that it would all fade eventually. You're not being stupid *or* mean- it was a good question.  
  
????: I'm sorry! I update quickly, though I won't be able to until tomorrow. You a Samwise fan too? D'ah, I love Sam.  
  
TrueFan: I hear that Randomness can be bought in tubes in Mexico for only two pesetas! Um, *reads paragraph again about Canada/England/USA* wow. Yes, I have an accent. People say I sound posh but what do they know!? And no, you do not want to live in England. Trust me. We've got Tony Blair (Bony Hair) and rain. Ceaseless rain. It swamps schools and floods houses. It blocks drains and explodes in pipes. Am really happy you liked the last chapter. It was lossa fun to write!  
  
Crazytook: Legolas was allowed to leave so easily because I wanted to show that Tharanduil was metaphorically letting his son go. A family bond thing. Did it work? I'm actually surprised that how many people want Sam to tell Frodo. I should have a poll... Thanks for the comments!  
  
~ Chapter Seventeen ~  
  
The two hobbits wrapped the blankets they were offered round them and sat before the cosy looking fire. Goldberry had been expecting their arrival and was already preparing some lunch for them. Now Tom hung up his damp jacket and came to speak with Merry and Pippin.  
  
"Greetings, friends," he said, making them look up, "I was wondering when I would be a-meeting you again."  
  
Pippin had a pack of ice pressed to the lump on his forehead and it was melting down his face making him shiver with cold anew.  
  
"Th-thank you, Tom. We'd never have been able to survive that storm if you hadn't come along," he replied.  
  
"But how did you know where we were?" Merry asked.  
  
"Tom is master here," the man said with a chuckle, "He knows what goes on all over his land. And I had a feeling that I might be seeing some familiar faces. Just a feeling. Now, you tell old Tom where you be a-going in this cold September hour."  
  
"To see Frodo! Because...oh." Pippin stopped. Both hobbits looked at each other. Merry went on;  
  
"Tom, it's funny but...the last time we saw you, we were heading off to Bree. You can have no idea of what happened between then, and now."  
  
"I had a fair idea," the man replied with a smile, "I've received many messages from my companions in the land. And the river still sings to her daughter, Goldberry. It was the river that brought us the news when your friends Frodo and Sam crossed her to make for Emyn Muil. She bore your companion Boromir down to Ithilien and delivered his horn to the hands of his brother. The darkness has not come to our door so I believe you have succeeded."  
  
The light outside was failing as Merry and Pippin began the full tale of their journey. From the very point when they had last seen Bombadil. Splinters of day cracked through the sky...  
  
--  
  
The sun's last ray crumpled below the horizon. The light now only came from the lanterns in the hobbit hole windows. Sam stepped outside and looked ruefully back down the passageway behind him. Rosie was waving at him at the end of the hallway, Frodo-lad supported in her arms, fast asleep. But she understood. Sam smiled as he turned round to face the path before him. That was why he had married her. She understood the things that truly mattered. She knew when Frodo needed his Sam.  
  
"Coming, Sam?" Frodo called from the gate. The hobbit looked down and his smile broadened.  
  
"Coming, Mr Frodo!"  
  
--  
  
Gimli moaned. The horse rocked and jolted beneath him making the whole landscape seem to sway.  
  
"Look, there!" Legolas cried behind him, tugging at the reigns. "See Gimli? The Misty Mountains! I am sure Caradhas still stands amid them..."  
  
"Well, it hasn't wandered off," the dwarf grumbled. Legolas laughed and nudged their steed forward. The snow was growing thicker and they were forced to move westwards and into the shelter of the mountains. The blank unfriendly faces had not changed. It was a though evil still lurked in the stones themselves. Lingering on. Legolas shuddered, casting this thought from mind.  
  
They had ridden long and Mirkwood was quickly lost from view. The dead land before them was horrific. With nothing beyond or before. Only the great rocks looming up on their right. A bleak horizon on every other side. Snow began to fall again- lightly at first but then swift and hard. Hail rained down hard, striking them on the cheeks and bouncing off Gimli's weathered helmet. The elf steered his horse round and quickly leaped off and helped his friend down.  
  
"Shelter!" he cried through the storm, "Find cave!"  
  
Gimli grunted in agreement and, leading the horse, they walked down into a narrow gully between the plain and the mountain foot. It was pitted with caves and arches but none deep enough to give shelter against the onslaught. At last, Legolas found an animal den set at an angle into the rock. It had been worn away by the rain and led down into a wide black bowl that was strewn about with dead vegetation. It was still freezing cold but at least they would be safe for now. Legolas ducked inside and Gimli followed. The horse had to be coaxed in with food and then he stood miserably on his own, nibbling idly on the straw.  
  
"Oh, this is wretched!" the dwarf swore, tugging the blanket from his pack.  
  
"What else can we do, Gimli?" his friend replied, "I am sure that this storm will have passed soon. Rest now."  
  
Outside, the sky was turning dark and the wind howled all the harder. The mountain groaned and seemed to pull at the very ground. Frost crept up its surface, spreading like ivy across the cliffs and crevices. It burrowed into the cracks and holes. Chipped and gnawed at the stone. Rain slashed through the sky, seeping through the weakened rock. The shale began to slide... It slithered at first, then began to slide. It danced down, picking up bigger and heavier rocks as it went. The pebbles rained down about the cave entrance. It was hardly any warning.  
  
Legolas jumped to his feet, grabbing the dwarf from under his blanket.  
  
"Get out! We must get out!"  
  
The horse whinnied and cantered out of the cave. The friends were tipped off their feet by a great rumbling. Sleet cut into their skin as they crawled outside and looked up. The landslide exploded through the roof of the cave in a flurry of snow and stone. With an immense clattering and booming that rent the air.  
  
When the cloud subsided, an odd sort of sound remained. Only a few trickle of stones tapping their way down but through all the deafening silence came a steady, piercing scream.  
  
Then it stopped.  
  
And the silence was like a sword. 


	18. Snowfall

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Lil*bee: I'm sorry, O loyal one, I will work extra hard! Ummm- how am I doing it? I am getting depressed at school and inspired at home...I guess  
  
Holly Wood: Hehe- another Frodo angst fan. The best, huh? The Lórien part is just my little addition of the "fading" part. It mentions in the book that after the destruction of the Ring, Lórien and all things made with the elven rings will fade. Depressing. Pleased you're enjoying this!  
  
Shirebound: Hmm, I hope I won't have to do much Bombadil and Goldberry. It is very hard. Never say that anyone does avalanches better than you! No! No, it isn't true! Oh, and people will eventually meet up. Aragorn's heading north. Legolas and Gimli are...well, buried. Frodo, Sam and Ematen are heading south. Merry and Pippin were heading west but this could change  
  
MagicalRachel: YAY! You updated Sam fic. That was just so sweet- loved it. More hobbitses to come, my love. It's your birthday present...precioussss...  
  
Radia: I'm sorry! Forgive me for my updates! I know, I am going to bawl my eyes out at the end of that third movie. Because after that I have nothing to live for except LOTR merchandise! Bombadil is very scary. In the Reviewer Spoof (I'm not trying to advertise here) he is the Dark Lord and tortures hobbits with songs and Enid Blyton-style amounts of food! Thank you for adding me to your favourites!  
  
Crazytook: Hope I don't give you a heart attack- all your reviews are beginning to start with Yikes! Well now, Sam has a whole journey's worth of opportunities to tell Frodo who he is. But it depends. What will Ematen do?  
  
Koko Kung: Have a great time in Quebec! I am envious. *envies* I hope I can get this up in time!  
  
TrueFan: Whoa more long review. You filled up a whole review page?! That's insane. I've read Bored of the Rings too and Bombadil is just the best. Ah, the big reunion will come soon. It's actually coming in bitesize pieces...  
  
FrodoFan: More is coming! I hope you enjoy this as much as Lost in Moria and Trials of Lórien  
  
~ Chapter Eighteen ~  
  
Emáten tethered their packs to his horse and then gripped the reigns.  
  
"Ready?" he asked. Frodo turned.  
  
"Yes. Let us be on our way."  
  
Sam quickly managed to "gain rights" to the horse. Almost at once, they made friends and neither would leave the other for whatever reason. That was just Sam's way.  
  
They departed from the inn stables where Emáten's steed had been tended and they made their way towards the road leading out of the Shire. Small white saplings lined the pathway and beyond spread the newly grown harvest. It looked so very...big to Frodo. Bigger than anything else he remembered. As if the whole world were spread out before him in a great blanket of golden threads.  
  
"This is the Shire?" he said, his voice barely a whisper, "All of it?"  
  
"Best view around," his friend confirmed with a grin. Frodo gazed round him in awe. The frozen grass flowing over the indentations of hobbit holes and in the distance, a dim stretch of forest. Far behind, the sea gently called to him and for a moment, he guessed he could hear the waves once more. Then he shook himself. Birdsong filled the air only as richly as can be read of in stories. And though leaves scattered the pathway and snow laid heavy upon both branch and fern, it was a wondrous sight to behold.  
  
"Clouds on the horizon- coming from the east," Emáten observed. The hobbits looked and sure enough, dark ominous clouds were rolling towards them from the direction of the forest.  
  
"Seems Buckland's in for a nasty spot of weather," Sam said, "We'd be best steerin' clear from there."  
  
"Alright then, come on. Straight south," Frodo replied. The three companions walked down into the shadow of the embankments and set out along a trail amid the crops. Emáten fell back with Sam and gave him a knowing look.  
  
"Sam," he whispered, "You do not have to go...I mean, your lady wife and your children, they need you."  
  
"Mister Frodo needs me too," Sam snapped back. Then he realised how this had come out and blushed. "Sorry, Emáten. But you have to understand that my master doesn't remember a soul next to me and Rosie. He needs me now. To look after him. That's the way it's always been with him and me." He looked fondly up at his friend striding ahead. So many memories. So many good times. "It must be so strange for him. Always on the verge of knowing everything but only able to piece it together bit by bit...It's alright; Rosie knows that Mister Frodo will need me along now. No offence, Emáten but, don't you understand that too?"  
  
Emáten looked down.  
  
"I...I always knew I did. I was brought up learning that Frodo had sacrificed everything for the quest. And that you had been the driving force all the way. Sam... I've always understood."  
  
--  
  
Tom bowed low to the hobbits, doffing his tall hat.  
  
"Here I'll leave you," he said, "You're full of food and gladness and I need give you more. But, my little hobbit friends, before I go back to my Goldberry, I leave you with advice: Head south-west and there you'll find a gift from the sea. Farewell now, little friends!"  
  
"Goodbye, Tom!" Merry and Pippin called. The odd figure pranced away, singing the different line of a song with each step. They could not suppress their laughter as he tumbled away back into the trees of the Old Forest. When the world seemed to drift back into place, Merry turned and said,  
  
"I wonder why he wanted us to go south."  
  
"A gift!" his companion cried, "From the sea, he said. What else could that be?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Frodo, of course! Come on, we spent too much time getting lost and not enough time getting excited! Come on, hurry, hurry!"  
  
Pippin wheeled away down the road and Merry had to sprint to try and keep up. They ran down the roads when they suddenly came to a halt. The road was under a carpet of snow. Drifts walled them in on either side. It was covered over with sparkling dew and was completely flawless- stretching out for miles and miles around. Pristinely white. The hobbits set out on their long journey out across the ominous wilderness, sinking up to their waists in the fresh fall.  
  
"And we were so dry at Tom Bombadil's," Pippin muttered sourly.  
  
"And warm," Merry replied.  
  
"A nice fire to warm our feet by with so much light and warmth and heat..."  
  
"Be quiet, Pippin! You're making my toes freeze!"  
  
"Sorry."  
  
~  
  
Short and simple! Hope the Mez and Pipz part was pleasing... 


	19. To Carry Another

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Mistoffelees: Hillbillies from Bree? I've gotta read about that! Bombadil was never a major character for me but he wasn't too bad here. Oh thank you for putting me in your favourites *blushes*  
  
TrueFan: *teacher whirls round and whips off disguise* And HERE children is LONG *children gasp and scream and run around in circles calling for their mum* I see, you could no longer resist the call of food...D'aw, I like Ematen too, he's fun to write about. Aw! Wierdness! Now, I can read your reviews and pretend they're in your voice! Your accent is so cool!  
  
Shirebound: Glad you liked those lines! I was piecing that last chapter together in one liners. Hehe. *blushes crimson* Thank you! It's just so nice to be able to write and then have others tell you what they think. It's just lovely that so many people are enjoying it. Oh yes, I always get that spelling wrong. Thanks!  
  
MagicalRachel: Ah, you found me out. The "inner angst" you might say. Don't worry, I'll attempt not to attack any hobbitses for a time. Am I quite renown, then, for having torturous stories?  
  
Crazytook: Sam is playing a bigger part in this than Frodo now! But am really happy that you're enjoying it. More Mez and Pipz to come for you!  
  
Koko Kung: Yay- I tried hard for you! And yes, I will update a lot more for when you return. And more piccies from you!  
  
BIGGEST FRODO/ELIJAH WOOD FAN: Aaaah! No, your name! It's big and scary and- did you take your brother and sister off? Aw, it's sibling love. But I reckon you'll have a lot of angry fangirls (and even boys) chasing after you in no time at all  
  
Radia: Pleased you're liking this! I know, I had to let Bombadil go because I really cannot write him properly. Ah- that's a brilliant observation. I never thought about that *slaps own hand* I suppose, though, when we have shoes on, our feet still get cold and they're not even wearing socks, poor lambs! But yes, thank you for pointing that out. And I do appreciate it. It's not stupid- a good question.  
  
My word, 123 reviews? That is just amazing! I never fail to be astounded at how lovely you all are!  
  
~ Chapter Nineteen ~  
  
Legolas was drifting between sleep and waking. He focused on one and drew himself up out of the night around him. It was light. Pale morning drifted down like snowflakes around him. The elf blinked. It was snow. And rain. It pattered down into his upturned face, seeping down his cheeks, making him wince. His back was throbbing painfully and he could feel every bone in his body creak as he got up into a sitting position. His head reeled and he reached out to steady himself. His hand came down on a helmet jutting up out of the snow. Legolas recoiled in terror. Everything came racing back to his confused mind. The fall and their desperate attempt to escape. And the scream.  
  
"Gimli!" he called. He pulled the helmet out of the snow and clutched to him. "Gimli!" he shouted again, his voice echoing over the mountains. He got shakily to his feet and looked round. The gully was almost completely filled with snow, dark heads of boulders erupting at various points all round it. The cave was utterly destroyed. Legolas, in a panic, ran down into the deeper slush, digging with his shaking hands. Elves barely feel the change in temperature but he knew hat dwarves did. This could kill him. If he was not dead already. Legolas felt the first terrible pang of grief bite at his heart. There was a quiet groan beside his feet. The elf fell to his knees in the snow and gazed round. The night part swallowed the landscape but with the pale light of the moon, he was able to make out a shape against the white backdrop.  
  
He half-crawled, half-stumbled over to the body stretched out limply on the ground. Gimli was almost entirely covered with stone and shale and he was dusted with snow so thickly, Legolas was amazed that he had found him at all.  
  
"Gimli," he croaked, struggling to focus on his companion, "Gimli, wake up! Please...wake up! Gimli! Gimli!"  
  
The dwarf twitched and a spasm went through his body. He groaned again and Legolas felt relief flood through him.  
  
"Gimli, are you hurt?" he breathed, "Come, wake up! Can you see me? Can you hear me?"  
  
Gimli made to reply but cried out in pain. His hands flew under the snow to grasp at his legs. Legolas tried to lift him but it was impossible. The stones were holding him down. One by one, the elf lifted each rock gently off his friend who moaned in protest. But Legolas had no other choice. They had to get away from this dangerous spot and find proper shelter. The night was chill and filled him with dread. What was out in that darkness? At last, he was able to pull the last of the rocks away and Gimli let out a long sigh. Legolas examined his friend quickly. He was breathing heavily, gasping and wincing with each breath. It was agony just to see.  
  
"Come, my friend, let us get you out of here," Legolas soothed, cradling the dwarf in his arms. He ran blearily up out of the gully and back onto the plain. An eerie wind was howling round the mountains. It swept past so swiftly that it nearly took both companions down. But the elf struggled vainly on, in the direction he hoped was still south. His mind still quavered and his wounds were making themselves known with excruciating pain. His face felt as though it were burning with all the cuts that raked down it and his perspiration made it sting all the worse. He grimaced but forced his way on, ever searching the horizon for a tree or bush that might serve as a refuge. But none came. It was as though the only world that existed now was that of the Misty Mountains and the wide plain here.  
  
"Let us put our hope in a miracle, Gimli," Legolas said, "Or just a horse. I wonder where he has got to."  
  
Another howling of wind echoed nearby. But it was mingling with more sounds. More noises. A different howl went up, piercing the night's canopy. Wargs.  
  
--  
  
"Will we have to cross over all that?" Sam asked, gazing out across the snowy wilderness. A new voice answered him.  
  
"Aye. Sorry, lads, but there was a storm yesterday that didn't let up for hours! Covered the whole road, it did. Here, don't I know you?"  
  
"No," all three replied in unison. The Shirriff raised his hands in mock defence.  
  
"Alright, alright. Just curious. On you go then but I'm warning you, the road ain't easy to follow- buried under near twelve inches!"  
  
He left them, walking back up the road they had come down which was now almost completely frozen over. The companions and their horse stepped gingerly into the cold and immediately out again.  
  
"We will wait until morning," Frodo said adamantly, "Otherwise we'll freeze in that. Come on, let's rest in that field over the wall and hope for better weather tomorrow."  
  
Emáten and Sam obeyed gratefully, clambering over the stonework and dropping down onto the grass beyond. Under the wall's shadow, they laid out their rolls and retrieved some food from their satchels. After a meagre supper, they laid down under the stars and fell asleep almost immediately.  
  
Frodo felt himself lose his grip on the world and spiral away down into the pit of dreams. Darkness enclosed him on all sides. There were strange, foul creatures surrounding him, hemming him in. He felt so heavy and there was an unbearable pain at the back of his neck. His throat was dry and when tried to cry out, all that emerged from his chapped lips was a hoarse squeak. The creatures laughed and bent down to him. They forced his head back and poured a burning liquid down his throat. He struggled but was only turned round onto his belly. There was a crack and a searing pain ran across his back and to his shoulder. "Pipe down, slug." Another lash and Frodo screamed so loudly and convulsed so violently that he woke himself.  
  
He had rolled metres away from Sam and Emáten. Sam was beginning to wake and mumbled his name sleepily. Frodo ran back to the camp and quickly reassured him.  
  
"It's alright, Sam. Just me."  
  
"Mister Frodo?" Sam blinked and their eyes met. "What's the matter?"  
  
"Nothing, Sam, it was nothing."  
  
Sam rubbed his eyes and sat up, shaking his head.  
  
"You had another dream, didn't you? Frodo, I can see you're lying, you're all pale!"  
  
Frodo sat back on his feet and let out a small whimper, turning his gaze to the ground.  
  
"I don't understand, Sam. They are so vivid and...it's just so frightening that I-"  
  
For once, Frodo needed to be consoled. He wrapped his arms round his friend and buried his face into his shoulder, trying to block out the tears. He felt Sam's grip tighten on his back and his friend let out a sigh.  
  
"Mister Frodo, forgive me... I know I'll do it wrong. I know that whatever I do will be wrong but I can't bear it anymore. Seein' you like this. I can't let it go on."  
  
The hobbit drew back hesitantly.  
  
"Sam, you do not have to tell me. They are just dreams."  
  
"But they're not!" his friend protested, "What you dream about is memories. Dark memories from when you carried It. Your nightmares are real, Mister Frodo! Rosie was right, I will have to tell you..."  
  
Frodo raised a hand.  
  
"Sam, no. No, if it brings you so much pain to see me hurt then give me one more night. If there is another nightmare, another...memory then, well, we'll see. Sam, please, I don't want anything to hurt you or pain you and I am so afraid of this thing you speak of, if it does truly hold the key to all these nightmares. One more night." 


	20. Hobbits Unite

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Shirebound: Heehee- yay! Lossa wargs and disgruntled elves! I'm sorry that the anticipated reunion is taking so much time in coming but it will hope eventually  
  
Koko Kung: Yay! You were in time! Hope you have (or had by the time you read this) a wonderful holiday! Sorry I'm scaring you *stops baring fangs* I'll try and be less intimidating for when you come back  
  
TrueFan: Ah! So you're a Legolas fangirl! Well, he's a little tied up at the moment, what with getting buried and all. Lots of fanwargs will be throwing themselves on him, I'll bet. Yes *holds up shield to defend self* I'm writing, I'm writing! Btw, I tried your tip about randomness in milk and you're right! It tastes really sweet. Add some limejuice- it adds flavour  
  
Lil*bee: Lost in Moria, Trials of Lórien and Memories of Home are kind of companion pieces. I don't know. Would you like them in a series? And yes, I will be writing a Two Towers fic hopefully later. This will take a long time but afterwards yeah.  
  
Crazytook: I didn't describe Gimli, I guess, because it's night and Legolas could not see his injuries clearly. More to come on that issue later! Are you a fan of the conversations? They are so much fun to write. Lots of characterisation for me.  
  
Alatariel: Wow! I am so pleased that you are enjoying this. Tormented Frodo and Sam- yeah- its what I live for. :-)  
  
~ Chapter Twenty ~  
  
Midnight dragged on and Merry and Pippin did not rest; far too eager to see their long lost cousin again. They trailed blindly through the snow until Pippin suddenly disappeared out of sight.  
  
"Aha!" he cried from the newly dug hole, "The road."  
  
"We're still on it?" Merry exclaimed, hauling his friend back to solid ground.  
  
"Yes! Come on, Merry, let's go!" Pippin cried forging ahead. But he quickly vanished down again and in the end, the snow petered out to frozen ground again.  
  
"It's no good," his friend answered, "We're going to have to sit down for a while- at least get our breath back."  
  
"Ah, you're a weakling!" Pippin gasped, giving his friend a light push.  
  
"I'll show you who's the weakling!" Merry cried. He jumped to his feet and raced off into the distance. Shouting and laughing, his comrade followed close behind.  
  
--  
  
Frodo flinched as the first rays of light came creeping sluggishly over the hill. His eyes were sore with lack of sleep but he was immensely comforted by the morning's brightness. He gently nudged Sam and Emáten awake.  
  
"Good morning," he said brightly as they sat up and looked round. "It's time we were on our way. We've a long way to go yet."  
  
"Are we allowed breakfast?" Sam asked with a smirk. He was worried at his master's drawn face and the dark rings under his eyes but he said nothing. Frodo smiled.  
  
"We will eat as we go."  
  
"Why so eager?" Emáten said with a yawn. The hobbit shrugged.  
  
"The more we do now, the less there will be tomorrow, I suppose. Come along. I'll go and see to the horse."  
  
As he watched Frodo jump back over the wall, Emáten glanced at Sam.  
  
"He has not slept at all," he whispered.  
  
"I know," Sam replied simply and began packing up the gear.  
  
They set off when dawn was still in the air and the whole countryside was silent. It felt wonderful. Chilly, yes, but the world seemed so fresh and new at that moment, as if everything had been frozen in one place just for them to admire. Slowly, the birds filled up the sky and light broke through the departing clouds of night. A soft warmth stroked the hillsides that had sprung up around them. There was not a soul in sight. The crossroads hove into view and the companions stopped to read the signs.  
  
"Buckland," Frodo read.  
  
"Nope," said Sam.  
  
"Hobbiton, no. Southlands, yes. I hope it's warmer there than here."  
  
"Minas Tirith will be beautiful now, all covered with snow," Emáten said wistfully and the hobbits smiled at him.  
  
"I remember it," Sam murmured, "It was always full of life. A lot busier than the Shire ever was."  
  
"And a great palace..." they heard Frodo say under his breath. Then he shook himself and started walking down the southern road. Suddenly, he stopped. A cry had gone up somewhere behind him. Sam frowned and glanced at Emáten who was looking back to the field of snow behind them.  
  
"There is somebody coming," he said, shading his eyes as he peered at the figures that were fair falling down the slope towards them. They were waving their hands and shouting something incomprehensible. The closest one leapt clean over the high wall and came charging onwards.  
  
"Frodo!" he was yelling, "Frodo Baggins, it's us!"  
  
"Mister Frodo," Sam cried, turning to his master, "It's Merry and Pippin! Your cousins!"  
  
He watched as Frodo's expression changed from confusion to delight. He guessed he could even hear the memories rush back, like a tidal wave. Merry and Pippin stumbled the last few steps and threw themselves at Frodo.  
  
"You came back! It's really you and you came back, didn't you? Oh Frodo, we've missed you so much!" Merry sobbed.  
  
"And you haven't changed a bit!" added Pippin.  
  
They were too out of breath to say anymore but just kept hugging his legs. Frodo bent down and put his arms round them both.  
  
"You two! How on earth did you find me so fast?" he laughed. He knew them both so well; it astounded him how he could have possibly put them from mind for a single moment! It was as if a bond had been forged anew between them that shone bright as the sun in that second.  
  
"Your return is all over the Shire- everybody knows. We just had to get here as quick as we could!" Merry gasped. Pippin nodded,  
  
"You don't think we'd forget about you, now, do you?"  
  
Sam and Emáten shared an anxious glance. It may have been a joke but it could easily hurt Frodo now. But he just shook his head and let out a gale of laughter.  
  
"Knowing you two, I'm surprised you were not there to meet me at the Havens! Sam beat you to it."  
  
"Hullo, Sam," Pippin said brightly. "Where have you been hiding yourself? We haven't seen you in ages!"  
  
"Well, I..." the hobbit began haltingly but he was cut off by his friends.  
  
"So it was you who found old Frodo? Congratulations, Master Samwise! Well done, sir!" Merry cried, clapping him on the back.  
  
"Yes, he's been with me all the way," Frodo said, beaming at his friend.  
  
"Of course he was!" said Pippin. He wiped his eyes and it was as if they four of them had never been parted. Emáten felt he was quite out of place there and stood awkwardly to one side with the horse. He felt very guilty to have marred this reunion. And honoured! He was in the presence of the very four hobbits that had seen nothing but danger and death all their lives. The two that had walked in Fangorn Forest and drank from the Entwash. He had heard that Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took were fair, fearless knights but it had always been just a rumour. They were certainly taller than either of their companions. They would have come up to Emáten's shoulders!  
  
"And whose this?" Merry asked, getting to his feet and helping Frodo up beside him.  
  
"I'm not quite sure," said Frodo, "He's been wandering round with us for sometime now."  
  
"This is Mr. Emáten, Merry," Sam said, stifling a giggle. Merry and Pippin came across and bowed low. Emáten hurriedly did the same and smiled at them.  
  
"I met you once before, Lord Peregrin," he said shyly. Pippin peered at his face a moment then drew back with a look of pure joy on his face.  
  
"Of course! I remember you now! Emáten, son of Emritan."  
  
"Yes, that's right," the man answered, feeling a glow of pride deep within him. Suddenly, he felt something cold strike his cheek. He looked up. Snow was beginning to fall again and the sun, as it rose above the horizon, disappeared under a haze of clouds.  
  
"Well, what are we going to do now?" Sam asked worriedly. "We're going south."  
  
"So are we, aren't we, Pip?"  
  
"We are? We are."  
  
"Oh honestly. You followed me once before, I recall," Frodo said, "A conspiracy."  
  
"And look where that got us. Look, Frodo, where would you be without us if we hadn't come with you?" scoffed Merry.  
  
"I don't know," Frodo replied. In total honesty.  
  
~  
  
Sorry there was so much talking in that. Plot will be resumed in ensuing chapters. 


	21. Elendil's Heir

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Lil*bee: I know, I know, I've been tapping away all weekend! OK, I suppose you can now officially say that they are in a series. I'll probably bulk it out with the rest of my beloved AU's later  
  
Holly Wood: Yay! My cliffhangers return! Poor old Frodo- I never give him a break  
  
MagicalRachel: Gimli torture...I can't see it becoming incredibly popular but you never know! Oh, I'm sorry that I'm such a sadist. I will try hard to be a good, kindly author. Yep, you guessed right. Angst all the way!  
  
Vedgiegirl: Glad you like the story! I try and pack my suspense in with every page. I'm feeling like a warg...  
  
Alatariel: Run, hobbits, run! Yeah, my soulmate! Lossa angst-y Frodo- perfect end to the day. *cringes under the lash* I'm writing, master!  
  
~ Chapter Twenty-One ~  
  
Legolas was still running. He did not know how long he had run but light was in the air now. The sun was up. But the wargs still pursued, their howls echoing in his ears. Even now, even as an elf, he was growing tired. His strides longer and slower. Gimli had not stirred and in the dawn, Legolas could see the dark patches of blood that stained his tunic.  
  
"Oh, Gimli," he murmured. There was a growl right at his heels. Legolas tripped and fell head over heels, trying to curl his body round his friend to protect him. He lay very still as he heard the approach of heavy paws. Legolas held his breath. He felt the wet nudge of a nose and a low, menacing growl. Teeth brushed his shoulder and the elf winced. There was a loud bark right by his ear. Legolas knew that the warg was no longer fooled. He stumbled to his feet as the teeth came down where his head had been a moment before, with a snap that rung about the plain. A drumming filled the air. More wargs. It must be. They approached slowly, teeth bared, muscles tense. Their fur was black and dappled with light brown. Their faces were twisted like coils of flame, eyes like coals that burrowed through him.  
  
Legolas had no where left to run. He was alone.  
  
"Well, Gimli," he said bravely, "I am glad that it is with you that I should die."  
  
The drumming was growing stronger and a cry went up far behind. He was surrounded. The wargs appeared to smile. The pack leader was almost upon them. Legolas prepared for the attack... closed his eyes and gripped the dwarf in his arms tight.  
  
But the attack never came.  
  
Something swooped overhead, giving a brief rush of hair. There was a whinny and a frenzy of barking. Legolas opened one eye. He saw four hooves positioned in front of him that suddenly rose up on two. A voice- a real voice- let rip a battlecry.  
  
"Elendil!"  
  
He watched in amazement as Aragorn leaped from the horse's back to the ground. Using only a small knife produced from his boot, the man swept round the wargs. They were mostly intimidated by the horse, who reared up and brought his diamond-hard hooves down into the earth with terrifying force. The blade cut through flesh and a squeal went up from the leader. The wargs fled back towards the mountains.  
  
Aragorn waited until the enemy were long gone before he turned to examine Legolas. The elf was shaking and bending over Gimli, checking for any injury. The dwarf's breathing was slow and even but he would still wince on occasion. Aragorn knelt down.  
  
"It's alright," he said softly, "You need not be afraid."  
  
"Aragorn!" Legolas laughed, "Afraid? Of you?"  
  
"Legolas! By all the stars..."  
  
The man seemed too excited to speak. He got up then sat down again and beamed at his friend. "It has been too long," he said. He reached forward to embrace Legolas but he was stopped. Aragorn's face fell.  
  
"Gimli..." he breathed, "What- what on earth happened?"  
  
"There was a landslide in the mountains. Our horse rode away and then those wargs came. Aragorn, we truly owe you our lives."  
  
There was a lot of pain in the man's face. He put a hand to his brow and let out a long and aggravated sigh. But then he shook his head and the smile lit his features once more.  
  
"The news I tell you now will stun you beyond anything that has happened to you so far. But we must get Gimli onto Brégo first."  
  
The companions gently lifted Gimli into the saddle. He groaned a little and his eyes flickered. Aragorn put his hands on his face.  
  
"No fever has risen."  
  
He carefully pressed the wound at the stomach, which elicited a short cry from the dwarf. He nodded, drawing back.  
  
"Just physical injuries. They will heal on their own. When I reach the north, I will be able to give him something for the pain. Meanwhile, we must let him sleep- gather his strength. Now, Legolas, I will need you to support him. Up you get."  
  
"North?" the elf asked in wonder as he climbed up to join his friend. "Why there? You are visiting Anor?"  
  
Aragorn shook his head again and laughed.  
  
"Patience, friend. We have much to speak of and a whole day to do it in." He pulled himself up by the reins and seated himself in front of his two comrades. "But for now, we will ride. On, Brégo! To the Shire!"  
  
"The Shire!" Legolas exclaimed, "Aragorn, I no longer care what you say, you will tell me everything!"  
  
--  
  
Arwen was standing with Eowyn upon the battlements, gazing down to the city below them.  
  
"I do not envy you, Lady Undomiel," the woman said after a while, "To be a queen."  
  
"I am glad!" her friend laughed, "It is really quite unimaginably dull."  
  
"I guessed that might be. I expect that Lord Arago- Elessar dislikes it just as much! Such a wild sort he was."  
  
"And always will be. Sometimes, I just wish I could tether him down. He never stands still for a moment- always too full of life. I never thought that the title of King suited him at all."  
  
The two of them laughed, then continued to watch the dawn break. After a long time of silence, Eowyn murmured,  
  
"I just hope Frodo will calm him down somewhat."  
  
Arwen frowned, her ageless face becoming stern and her shining eyes growing distant.  
  
"I think Frodo will have many things to deal with. My lord Elessar should not have gone. It will bring back terrible memories for the Ringbearer. He will remember little enough."  
  
"I do not believe that Ara- his highness will wish to distress Frodo. They were close friends," Eowyn said, looking at her carefully. Arwen glanced at her out the corner of her eye.  
  
"Yes. That is what I mean."  
  
~  
  
Hmm. I don't know what I thought of that chapter. Sort of confusing... 


	22. The Ringbearer

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
TrueFan: Such a scary review! *cowers* I'm really pleased you liked Frodo's line (I liked it too) *blush* AAH! Please don't whip me master! I'm writing, I swear it. You should change your name to oooh, say, Dark Lord or Mrs Uruk-Hai. *innocent smile* Oh yes, and to your query about Legolas carrying Gimli, well, he's a strong lad, I'm sure that a little old dwarf would not be much trouble. Gimli was, er, on a diet...? Plus, I hope your speaker gets better. Give it an aspirin or lime! You put the lime in the coconut and drank it all up...Gotta love that song!  
  
Kiasha: Yay! You like! Thank you very much!  
  
MagicalRachel: Yay, good old Aragorn. Knew he'd come in useful one day. Hehe. Poor Gimli. In Darkness of Mordor, he gets a little torture. Oh, I'm feeling guilty now. I've started a dwarf-torture trend! Ack. The epitome of evil returns... Thank you for the lovely email- very funny!  
  
Shirebound: Currently, I think I'm on a roll. I'm very poorly at the moment and I probably think that staring at the screen isn't helping a lot but the typing is very soothing. Chapter 3 Keeping of the King was so lovely, btw, so beautifully written- go you!  
  
BIGGEST FRODO/ELIJAH WOOD FAN: OK, OK! Please don't hit me! *cringes* Chapters are coming!  
  
Elf of Rivendell: Gandalf will return! Possibly in the next part of this story. That's a thought...hmm, thank you for that idea about Galadriel. I'm really pleased you're enjoying this- thank you for all your comments- you're just so good to me!  
  
Lil*bee: Yeah, go Aggy! No, I do not have any LOTR fics stored away. Plenty of angst-y stuff but not Rings based. Lots of ideas, though! Any suggestions for a Two Towers story?  
  
Jeva: *bows down to almighty author* Yay! T'is you, t'is you! I am so honoured... Aw, wow, thank you so much! I'm really pleased you liked my other fics too. Yeah, quite a few people got a bit freaked in Trials of Lórien- poor Frodo! Hobbits, btw, will appear loads more in this story- the company just have to get together again and help Frodo out. PLEASE update your fic- it is so original! Love it! In reply to your message: noos retteb teg uoy epoh I ,wa'D  
  
????: Yay for Frodo and Aragorn! Glad you're enjoying this. Oh and, btw, how do you pronounce your name?  
  
Ow! I am so ill! *whimpers* Well, you are making me feel so much better with these wonderful reviews!  
  
~ Chapter Twenty-Two ~  
  
The rider had returned from Mirkwood. So had the messengers from Belfalas, Erebor, Erech and the western realms. There was little word. And no sign of King Elessar.  
  
Faramir unrolled the parchment from King Tharandúil and Prince Legolas. There were endless lines of flowing script telling of recent events. Celebrations. Marriages. Proclamations. With a sigh, he folded this away and picked up the one from Erebor. Celebrations. Marriages. Proclamations. Faramir let out a faint groan and pushed the parchments aside. He could not help feeling a little envious of Aragorn for being able to ride off to greet Frodo. Faramir smiled at this thought. The return of the Ringbearer.  
  
Though he, Lady Arwen and Eowyn had attempted to keep the news to themselves, the majority of Osgiliath and of Minas Tirith had now heard of Frodo. The streets buzzed with gossip. The festivities were already being prepared. They convinced them not to put up banners or decorations but Faramir had a feeling that the people were keeping many of their plans secret. Gifts strewed Baggins Street on the eastern side of the river. Notes reading welcomes, praise and verses of adoration fluttered through the air.  
  
Everyone in the city were now singing "Frodo of the Nine Fingers". Faramir could not remember seeing them so happy. Even the doleful bartender at The Silver Net was among the crowds clustering the roads and bridges, a wide smile on his face. This outraged Arwen.  
  
"They will only hurt him!" she often cried. But even the word of the queen herself could not sway their delight.  
  
"Yes, my lady," Eowyn said, "But you must understand, their love for Frodo and the Fellowship is so strong. For they have lived on the borders of Mordor for many long and cruel years. They saw Minas Morgul fall and saw Emyn Muil rise up as the earth shook. Frodo released us all from darkness. He drove back that shadow. That was an immense task. We know that he sacrificed everything for it."  
  
"And Lady Arwen, Frodo will wish to see us again. He will wish to see his companions, will he not?" Faramir added.  
  
The elf shook her head and she shook with anger.  
  
"But we must think of his suffering! Would you wish to be the one who brought that back to him?"  
  
She did not wait for an answer but stormed away into the cheering throng.  
  
"She is right. We are being selfish," Eowyn murmured, squeezing her husband's hand. Faramir looked sadly at her.  
  
"I know. But so many want to remember. I am sure that only the Fellowship truly wish to forget..."  
  
--  
  
Snow was starting to fall heavily now and it swirled about the company along with the great gusts of wind. Emáten went in the lead, trying his best to shield the hobbits and his steed. In the distance, he could make out the faint outline of mountains and a dark smear of trees climbing up at the edges. The weather, though, was growing more frenzied and it was all he could do to keep his balance.  
  
Behind, Sam was practically dragging the horse after him and there was not enough breath in his lungs. He glanced at his companions, whose faces were all turned to the ground as they struggled into the blizzard. There was a sudden crack and Emáten let out a cry. The hobbits fell back as he tumbled down among them. Frodo quickly dragged the man aside under the weak protection of a dead tree.  
  
"What is it?" he asked urgently. Emáten was a little pale but shook himself to reply shakily,  
  
"We nearly stepped into a river. It has frozen a little but I almost went through. Do you know which river this could be?"  
  
"The Brandywine," said Merry, "We must be near the second crossing. But we're not going to be able to find it in this snow..."  
  
The rest of his words were spiralled away by the wind. Emáten huddled under the tree and the hobbits sat close about him. The snow did not let up for an hour...two hours...three hours and still it roared about the sky. Frodo watched fearfully as in this time, first Pippin then Emáten, then Sam and finally Merry drifted off into a deep sleep. It was an eerie silence, even in the gale's lament. The hobbit fought it so hard. But the cold seemed to seep into his very skin; it leadened his eyelids and numbed his mind. The landscape appeared to sway and blur before his eyes. And though he forced his eyes to stay focused and tried to occupy his thoughts, it was a losing battle and in the end, sleep claimed him also.  
  
What Frodo saw in his nightmares almost crushed his very mind. A mountain of fire. Clear as light. Red and gold blossomed from its head and spilt down the sides in a cascade of ash and ember. He was walking towards an opening in its face. The mountain raced up in a flurry of dust and fumes to let him climb its face. Inside, it was boiling hot. Geysers of lava exploded on every side. He spun round in horror, shielding his eyes from the glare. He was almost choked with the smog that hung like a shroud of death over the pit before him. It bubbled and swilled, sending up criss- cross arcs of flame. Frodo stood before it and it was as if two voices were calling to him from across the cavern. "Please, no, Mister Frodo! Not after all that- you can't give in. Destroy It! Destroy It!" Frodo raised his hand behind his head, ready to fling it into the abyss. But then...the second voice stopped him. It was his own voice... "No, my precious. There is no need for this. Why destroy me, precious? I am part of you now. You cannot kill yourself."  
  
"What are you?" Frodo screamed, "Who are you?"  
  
"I am your soul," said the voice. "And you will never be rid of me!"  
  
Frodo woke to find someone shaking him. It was still light and the storm had still not died. Sam was bending over him, a hand to his brow and at his shoulder. His face was filled with fear.  
  
"Mister Frodo, are you alright?"  
  
Frodo sat up awkwardly, running a hand through his hair. He looked at his hand. It was shaking badly. He could hear his heart beating loudly in his ears. He fixed his shining eyes on Sam's.  
  
"I heard It's voice, Sam," he whispered, "I heard It calling me. It...It said It was part of me." In a sudden flood of terror, he gripped his friend and shouted at him- "You have to tell me, Sam! I'll go mad! I cannot go on like this!"  
  
"I know," the hobbit answered. There were tears glistening on his cheeks. Putting a hand to his master's face, he said softly, "Frodo... you were the bearer...of the One Ring."  
  
And Frodo passed out. 


	23. Return

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Holly Wood: Yes, I'm always being accused of quick updates...sorry! Well, poor old Frodo, I hope that there is a way I can save him  
  
Radia: I have no energy! (well, if it's anywhere right now, it's in my nose) I think I unconsciously store away the ideas I like and they come out onto paper later. Glad that lots of people liked the Aragorn part- he finally got some decent action! I have never seen the RotK cartoon and I don't plan too because I found a lot of bad reviews for it. "ugly hobbits" etc. The song lyrics in Jeva's review kind of get the message across :-) But glad you liked the rest!  
  
MagicalRachel: *groan* Lots of pain. No pain no gain, I suppose. Thank you for the hugs! Cool- yeah, I like the idea for the Mez and Pipz story- could be another in your "ficlet series" Yay for the Olympics!  
  
Jeva: Ch.10 was so good! Loved it tonnes! Give me more! It really is quite a terrible song, isn't it? Ick. Well, thank you anyway because you have me a great idea- re-do the nasty Frodo song! Mirror reply: *naom* tnemom eht ta ypparc ytterp gnileef si eM !oot suoegrog yrev era stibboH  
  
Shirebound: I suppose there might be. To commemorate the greatness of all hobbits! They should rename it Halflington!  
  
Mrs Uruk-Hai: Ah, one of the best songs on the planet. OK, so it's from the Muppet Show but still... You put the lime in the coconut and drank it all up (repeat repeat) If you call me in the morning, I'll you what to do... OK, I won't bore you with it further but it is such a good song. Nope, England wishes it had coconuts but it never ever will. Ta for the prezzie! Aw, wow, Ailsa Instant Full Health, aw, you shouldn't have. That song should not be allowed, man! Me rewrite *fingers start shaking* Yeah, I guess that Ematen, Mez and Pipz must be very deep sleepers. Maybe they're dead! *hits self* Bad sadistic Ailsa, down girl  
  
????: Four Question Marks- is that foreign? :-) Yeah, lots of Aggy, Leggy and Gimzoid. Should be fun! Sorry I gave you a headache- didn't mean to! *groans as she is struck by lightning* No, it isn't lightning, just my headache. It's like in those angst-y fics where the room sways or you feel dizzy. Wow, do I pity tortured Frodo now! D'aw, it's nothing- hopefully I'll get better soon  
  
aelfgifu: Thank you! I hope that Memories of Home continues to please!  
  
~ Chapter Twenty-Three ~  
  
Brégo cantered along the icy road and over the bridge. The faint song of the warning bell sounded distantly. Slowing his horse to a stop, Aragorn slipped from his back and walked cautiously towards the round red door. He looked back to where Legolas was helping the drowsy Gimli to the ground.  
  
"Go on," the elf encouraged, "Just ask for Baggins."  
  
Doubtfully, Aragorn knocked on the wood panelling. There were some voices inside and then the door opened. A gnarled looking hobbit peered out at them. He pouted.  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
"I was wondering, sir, if you happened to know the whereabouts of Mr Baggins. Frodo Baggins?"  
  
"I do," the hobbit answered. The man waited for him to continue but he did not.  
  
"Well, can you tell me where he is?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Please do so..."  
  
"He's up at Bag End, last I heard, with Mayor Gardener's family and another fella like yourself. Is that all?"  
  
"Yes, thank you. Good-"  
  
But the door had closed again. Aragorn stepped back and glanced over his shoulder. Legolas was trying hard to suppress his laughter. Tying Brégo's reins to a nearby post, the three of them set off up the pathway. They managed to find a small hobbit-lass and ask for directions to Bag End and they soon find the great green door at the hilltop. Aragorn knocked again. His hands were shaking with anxiety. He wondered what Frodo looked like- how he had changed. Or Sam, of course! Legolas, supporting Gimli, joined his friend and they all waited. After a minute or so, they heard the latches draw back. A hobbit wife, dressed in red dress and apron, greeted them.  
  
"Hello?" she asked.  
  
Aragorn beamed.  
  
"Hello, my lady," he cried, "I and my friends here have journeyed from the south and from the west to meet Frodo Baggins the Ringbearer!"  
  
"Oh, goodness me! I'm sorry, sir, but you just missed him. He left near on two days ago," the hostess replied, shaking her head. "Can I help you, perhaps?"  
  
"No...no, that's alright. But- where did he go? Did he go alone?"  
  
"Certainly not! My Samwise went with him, and that nice chap, Emáten too. Heading south, as a matter of fact. Now, I don't mean to pry, sir, but...I didn't reckon that Mister Frodo knew many of the Big Folk. You knew him well? Perhaps from that quest he went off on?"  
  
Aragorn was silent so Legolas answered on his behalf.  
  
"Yes. We were close friends with him during that time. It is only recently that we heard of his return from over the seas. Thank you for your help."  
  
"No problem at all, sir," the hobbit said, blushing furiously under the elf's gentle gaze. She glanced at the burden at his feet. "Here, is your friend alright?"  
  
"He is wounded, yes," Legolas began. And before any of them knew what was going on, they had been dragged inside and Gimli was being helped into an empty room and being lain down on a bed. The hobbit wife, who introduced herself as Rosie Gardener, bustled away without question to bring them some food and drinks. Aragorn stared at his companions.  
  
"It is a female rendition of Sam!" he cried.  
  
--  
  
**Gandalf stood up on the mountain peak and stared across the sea. It had been many days since Frodo had gone. And only now did the wizard sense something was amiss. He felt restless and unsure. If anything happened to him, Gandalf would never forgive himself. But then again, this had been Frodo's choice and whether he returned or not was up to him. Frodo had gone back to confront his fears. But what if they consumed him? What if he could not take those memories? Gandalf knew that the hobbit's return would summon the Fellowship together again. There was one last quest appointed to them all. And would be as it was, eleven years ago.  
  
"Gandalf!" Galadriel called, "Gandalf, the ship is waiting for you!"  
  
The wizard sighed and slowly descended the mountain. It was his turn now. Time swept past and he stepped down onto the beach. Galadriel and Celeborn were standing at the pier head, watching for his coming. Gandalf nodded to them and walked along the jetty and up the gangplank onto the deck of the white ship. Bilbo stood to one side, clutching the side and gazing out.  
  
"But Gandalf," he said, "What if I forget?"  
  
"I will not let you. You will go below during our crossing and sleep. Let your body continue functioning on its own. My spell will help you remain immortal- your memory intact," his friend replied.  
  
He saw relief wash colour back into Bilbo's face and the hobbit hurried down the steps to the cabins below. Elrond carefully removed the gangplank and raised his hand in silent farewell.  
  
"Safe journey, Gandalf the White," he cried as the ship began to bob freely on the waves. "May you reunite the Fellowship and help them on this last quest. Send our warmest regards to them all. And, Gandalf..."  
  
"Yes, Elrond?"  
  
"Bid that Frodo returns. This is where he belongs."  
  
And the ship dipped out of view and onto the Endless Sea. Gandalf shook his head and murmured under his breath,  
  
"Be not so sure, Elrond. Frodo has many paths before him...I do not believe that Valinor will be at the end of one."**  
  
~  
  
Very uncertain about this chapter. Good or really bad? 


	24. From This Story Lost

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Jeva: Hehe- I'm pleased you like the Sammy part and I'm very happy that the chapter fell under the 'good' category. Sorry- I just got a little uptight about that song. For such a terrible and frightening quest, I just thought that the lyrics seemed a little well, meek compared. Sorry, no offence intended. But when sung in Memories of Home, it will be my own version. Nonsense! Your story is the best! I found it so hard to believe that anyone could possibly get that idea down into words, but you have. Not only that, but incredibly well too. Mirror Reply: ...loord...seye eulb gib s'odorF/hajilE yllaicepse -oot yxes eb nac stibboh nokcer I ,wonk t'nod I !aT  
  
Bookworm2000: Ssss...precious...the nasty Bagginses will be 'pearing in thiss very chapter...torture him, precious! Torture him, we do, my love! We is glad that precious is intrigued... (there are 2000 bookworms?!) :-)  
  
Alatariel: *blush* Ta- I am really pleased you're enjoying this so much. And, by the way, you are one of the best inspirations I have ever had. This chapter is dedicated to you!  
  
Koko Kung: Yay! You return! Have a good holiday? Thank goodness you found Yum-Yum. I was getting worried! Yes- keep chanting that and hopefully we might raise Boromir from the grave!  
  
Shirebound: I can write the best worst chapters in the world! Yes, good for Gimli! I still haven't worked out what's exactly wrong with him yet!  
  
TrueFan: So did I but I still remember the Muppets! As for the LOTR cartoon, I thought it was quite sweet! The RotK one was the one to avoid. I'm sorry! Frodo will get his angst very soon indeed. But if you even suggest that he has an afro, I'll hunt you down! Gimli with an afro *shudders* A thing of nightmares, man! D'aw, thank you! *returns hugs*  
  
ViNguyen: 'Course I haven't forgotten you! You leave funky reviews! Ah, Leggy and Frodsi will meet again soon, my friend. Ying yang...  
  
BIGGEST FRODO/ELIJAH WOOD FAN: Yarg! You are just so scary! No, I will not write more! I'm going on strike! *cringes under the lash* Sorry, master...  
  
Sniffles and sobs. But 164 reviews to brighten my day! Thank you!  
  
~ Chapter Twenty-Four ~  
  
Emáten struggled to his feet, Frodo draped across his arms. The storm had died a little and the company were able to make out the frozen river stretching from horizon to horizon.  
  
"It's Sarn Ford," Merry said, "If we head downstream for a bit, we'll find the crossing."  
  
The man nodded and began the dangerous journey along the rutted pathway. There were great slashes of frost rippling off from the Brandywine, like fallen, silver pine trees. Snow still dappled the air and there was still the occasional rumble of thunder in the distance. Everything was drenched and walking was treacherous. They all slipped many times but gritted their teeth and went stolidly on. They tried to fill the uneasy silence with chatter. Trying to piece together the occurrences that must have taken place while they slept.  
  
It had been Pippin who discovered it. He had woken from a deep and drowsy sleep to find that he could not wake Frodo. Still breathing, heart beating and all seemingly well, but for the fact that he remained in a coma-like state. Not only that but...  
  
Sam had gone.  
  
And though they had called and Merry and Pippin had gone out a way looking for him, Sam was no where to be found.  
  
So now their only hope was to find him down-river. But they longed to know what had happened. It was all far too frightening. Emáten felt that he was in some way to blame for this; in taking an opinion in the matter. The reason he had become so shy was that he had learnt many times that taking an interest or opinion always landed you in trouble. He saw this in war; people taking sides so violently that they would kill each other over beliefs or differences. And now Emáten had been there to give voice to his thoughts to Lord Samwise himself. Fool, he scolded himself. But now there's nothing you can do but to do your best to mend it.  
  
Merry and Pippin were engaged in thoughtful conversation.  
  
"But Sam would never leave Frodo," Pippin cried, "Not for anything. And especially if Frodo was hurt!"  
  
"Yes, I know! He would have been at Frodo's side in an instant if he knew he was hurt!" Merry replied.  
  
"But what if he could not?" Emáten said softly. The hobbits looked up, startled. The man stopped and turned round to face them, chewing his lip, eyes lowered. Nervously, he looked up and went on, "What if Sam could not get to his master?"  
  
"I can't think of anything that could keep Sam away from Frodo," Pippin answered resolutely, "He defeated that enormous spider! And why on earth would that come creeping up to Sarn Ford?"  
  
Merry had gone a little pale. His friends gave him some worried looks.  
  
"Sir?" Emáten ventured. The hobbit seemed to snap out of a trance.  
  
"I'll be back in a minute."  
  
And he ran back towards the dead tree. Pippin and Emáten looked at each other then quickly followed behind. They reached the spot to find Merry bent over the frozen ground, eyes shifting back and forth. He let out a loud cry, making his companions jump, and slammed a finger down onto the ground. They all bent closer to see. It was a print- stamped into the earth and twinkling with frosty stars- of three claws and a heel. Merry crawled a way behind it and sat back with a hand over his mouth. There was another mark on the riverbank. Long scratches raked down the sides and a little broken ice at the water edge.  
  
Emáten knelt down and gently laid Frodo down. He did not understand. Though he fought with his mind and searched every possible reason, he did not begin to understand. He looked desperately towards Merry. The hobbit was shaking his head, brushing his fingers in the giant impression.  
  
"What is it?" Emáten asked hoarsely.  
  
"Don't you know?" Merry snapped, "Surely with all your learning of our journey, you know more than us!"  
  
The man cringed and said no more. But Pippin got up behind his cousin and gave him a quick tap on the shoulder.  
  
"Merry, Emáten is as worried as we are. There is no need to get angry."  
  
"I know. I'm sorry. But you do see...we know what lurks out there. We've seen a lot of darkness and danger in our time. And if anything should happen to Sam, well..."  
  
Emáten rested a hand on the hobbit's back and nodded. But when Merry looked up, he did not smile and there was no change in his expression. There was the cackle of lightning nearby. The snow became sleet, cutting hard into their faces.  
  
"What is it, Sir Merry?" Emáten persisted. He fixed his eyes on Merry's, trying to prove his point. "I really want to help Sam."  
  
The hobbit got to his feet and gazed down at the two marks before him. Soaking in every part of that scene and letting his mind fumble uselessly around the clues. What was there to believe? Frodo and Sam would never be parted twice. Not like this. And there was only one thing that would keep Sam away from his master.  
  
"In the Shire, after the quest," he said haltingly, "Folk wrote songs. Lots of them. We hobbits believe it's the best way to preserve history. And- there was one song that told...Well, there was one verse that everyone said shouldn't be allowed:  
  
First on beasts, born of night; Maimed by water's wrath. Then on beasts, death in flight; From this story- lost."  
  
Pippin did not speak. He was too crammed with hate and fear to even open his mouth. Merry stood silently by the river, still looking down, unable to say more. Emáten knelt by Frodo, not believing. He put his hands to his ears. No! They had been destroyed! That was how the tale ended! Why would they come back now? No! No! At last, he let out a shout that echoed about the landscape and seemed to make the whole sky shudder and send the world into deeper silence. The man leapt to his feet, tears pouring down his face. No! The tale could not go on like this! No more death. No more pain.  
  
"No!" he screamed, his voice cracking, "No! The Nazgûl must be dead!" 


	25. Questioning

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Jeva: This morning, gosh, I was scared! I couldn't access this story at all- the reviews and all 24 chapters seemed to have disappeared. Came back to it this afternoon and thank goodness it reappeared! Scary Fido... And you are very scary too! You and your Nazgul friends. Oh, but as for that song: There is an inn, a merry old inn, beneath an old grey hill...gotta love that! I thought the cartoon was sweet- it kept closer to the book. (But you see that Bombadil it also missed out in that :-) Yay for chapter twelve! Mirror Reply: ...emas eht dnuos t'nseod tsuj...wohemos sdrawkcab rethgual livE !ah ah awM !nwod uoy tnuh lliw yeht dna...evil uoy erehw tuo dnif lliw stibboh suoegrog eht -ha'G  
  
Alatariel: Sweetheart, that's alright! You're the one who gave me the inspiration! You just helped me turn this story right around. Yay! Fun ensues... Don't forget to eat this weekend, btw!  
  
Koko Kung: Hiya Yum-Yum! Oh, and Koko- don't worry- Ringwraiths are terrifying! *trembles and hides under the sofa* Two Towers *drags self to nearest cinema* Twooo Toweeersss... Glad you're enjoying Memories of Home!  
  
MagicalRachel: Way! - That's exactly the reason; I just couldn't put my finger on it. Good it worked out, though. Ah shucks, I know, I'm bringing in all sorts of different torture now. I should start a sadistic community. Ent torture. Gollum torture. Celeborn torture. Orc torture, although I guess they don't really mind that  
  
Bookworm2000: Sorry! I didn't mean to confuse you, honest. Yes, you got it in one. The Nazgul return. It does make sense, I promise. I mean, not much else in Middle-Earth has giant clawed feet and is powerful enough to drag Sam away from Frodo. Hope I "unconfuse" you in this chapter :-)  
  
TrueFan: *hides behind Ematen with TrueFan* I know, I'm scared too. I don't really want to hurt Sam but what the hey. Lots of pain! Lots of nightmares! Hehe  
  
ViNguyen: Hey, I know the feeling, man. When my school year group go out on trips, my friends take magazines and sometimes they'll call out my name- I'll look to the back of the bus- they'll hold up a pic of Elijah and I'll fall out of my seat. It's a way of Ailsa life. :-) Sorry! Sorry! I'm continuing, I really am!  
  
Crazytook: Great- I'm so pleased you liked that part. I had hoped that I would write it just as you described. Thanks! More of the last quest plot will be pursued in the chapters after this. Hopefully, I can everyone together before that. Poor old Sam!  
  
Skye: Greetings, O great one! I am so happy to hear that you're enjoying Memories of Home- it has a long way to go yet! But thank you so much for your lovely reviews  
  
~ Chapter Twenty-Five ~  
  
Sam woke. At least, he supposed he had woken. But all around him was blackness, an inky darkness and he believed it must be night. Something kept tickling his face, brushing over it, making him twitch. He was curled up on a hard surface that scratched his back and cut his hands. His hands. They were behind his back in a most uncomfortable position. Something had tight hold of them. Suddenly, the darkness was removed. It billowed upwards in a great rush of air. It floated gently down again. It was cloth. No night, just cloth. Beyond this strange thing was the sky, burning its last red embers amid the clouds.  
  
Sam struggled to sit upright and clear his groggy mind but the one holding his hands was too strong and he found that he could barely move. Where was he? Where were the others? Frodo! That was his duty for the moment. He had fallen unconscious and whether Sam regretted his words or not, he had to help his master for the moment. That was the reason he had come. Now where were the others?  
  
"Tell me who is the lord of Valinor."  
  
The voice was so sudden and frightening that the hobbit almost screamed. But Sam quickly reminded himself that he had seen the very worst of Middle- Earth and whatever this was could not begin to compare.  
  
"What?" he asked. He tried to crane his head round and see his captor but it was in vain.  
  
"Tell me who is the lord of Valinor."  
  
"Well, how am I supposed to know that?"  
  
"Tell me who is-"  
  
"I don't know!"  
  
"Do not lie to me."  
  
"Mr Valinor? How should I know?"  
  
The voice fell away. Sam was glad because it was painful to hear. It chilled his heart. It sounded like the roll of thunder. The swish of the final blade in battle. The crack of bone on the rocks. After a time, the voice returned. It began without even taking in a breath.  
  
"Tell me who is the lord of Valinor."  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"What is his name?"  
  
"I don't know what he even looks like!"  
  
"Do not lie to me. I will purge your soul into darkness."  
  
"You can purge all you like but I still won't know! I've never even been there!"  
  
"You have."  
  
"No I haven't. My master went a long time ago but you leave him alone."  
  
A great shriek went up behind Sam and he paled. He knew that sound so clearly that it was as if he had heard it for the first time. So many times. Chasing on horses and dragons. The black cloth. The voice. The cry. It echoed again and Sam felt himself being pushed away. His arms were freed and he reached up desperately to grab at something but he was falling. The hobbit looked up and saw it. It was lain out against a fiery sky of blazing clouds and rippling light. A dragon of unfathomable darkness and in its saddle, a Black Rider, its garb swirling out around it like a halo of night. Its red pinpricked eyes watched him fall without emotion. Then it reined its creature up into the gathering shadow. Sam's ears were filled with the roaring wind and he could not even think for noise. He spun round and around, gasping for air, hands still reaching blindly out for something to hold. But there was void. Far below, he could see fields and forest misted over with cloud. Faint outlines of rivers that danced with light and darkness. He toppled forward into obscurity.  
  
--  
  
Legolas felt a bit silly holding a teacup that was half the size of his hand. But he gratefully drank up the contents. Setting this aside, he watched Rosie Gardener work. She rushed back and forth from kitchen to room to pantry and back again, gathering herbs, drinks and ice. Gimli, lying dolefully on the table at the room's centre, was hanging of the sides a little and was not even permitted to get comfortable. His shirt had been bundled into the wash and the ugly wounds being tended. Rosie approached.  
  
"No, my lady," the dwarf snapped, "Not one more herb. I refuse to have my stomach inspected further."  
  
He folded his arms, just to prove his point. The hobbit wife completely ignored his protests, unfolded his arms and carefully smothered a large red gash with a grey ferny substance.  
  
"Mr Legolas," she said with a sigh, "If you would be so kind as to find Mr Aragorn and tell him that if you two can keep Mr Gimli busy then I'll feed you."  
  
The elf had to leave the room for laughing when Gimli tried to get up and fight with Rosie. He went in search of Aragorn and found him in the dining room, under the table.  
  
"What are you doing, Aragorn?" he asked, getting down on his hands and knees. The man giggled and so did someone else behind him. He put his finger to his lips and signalled for Legolas to go away. Legolas got to his feet just as a little girl entered the room. She beamed at him and then began to patrol the room, looking behind curtains, peering into chests and pulling out drawers. At last, another explosion of giggling from under the table brought her scurrying over and the game was finished. Aragorn crawled out with another, far smaller hobbit.  
  
"Again!" he sang, dancing round the man's legs. Aragorn looked as though he was contemplating the idea but then he sighed and shook his head.  
  
"I am afraid that I am all hide-and-seek'ed out. Off you go, Ellie, take your brother and get him ready for bed."  
  
"Alright, Strider," the girl cried happily. She took the small hobbit by the hand and they fair pranced from the room.  
  
"Who was that?" Legolas laughed. The girl returned briefly to reply in one breath,  
  
"I'm Elanor and I'm nine and I live at Bag End and my daddy is Samwise Gardener."  
  
Then she left. Aragorn smiled a little bashfully.  
  
"When I met them they were two elves and they ambushed me at the bedroom door. I was dragged away and tied up for hostaging."  
  
"So that's where you were for an hour," the elf mused, "Sam's children. Well, I never."  
  
"Beautiful, are they not? Now, Legolas, how is Gimli faring?"  
  
"Well, I would not say he is faring but rather unfaring. Come, Rosie says that if we occupy Gimli for her then she will feed us. And with the renown cooking skill of hobbits, I am quite happy to throw him out of the window for her."  
  
They sprinted from the room and joined the dwarf who was now swathed in bandages. He grumbled at them and said nothing.  
  
"Oh, poor Gimli," Aragorn laughed, "Never mind. It will soon be over and you will be allowed to do whatever you will."  
  
Gimli just growled.  
  
Rosie returned bearing cutlery which she pressed into her guests' hands and commanded them to lay the table. They did so without objection and then helped their friend down from where he lay and sat him down before a veritable feast. Elanor and her brother returned ready for bed and sat themselves down on either side of Aragorn. They talked and ate long into the night. Rosie was most interested about their part in the quest. Frodo- lad, the little hobbit, got the hiccups from excitement at the knowledge that his guests had actually fought at the famed Helm's Deep. Elanor asked question after question about Arwen and Eowyn, her heroines and she asked severally if they thought she resembled either. Aragorn smiled at her.  
  
"You are like them in that you are beautiful, Elanor."  
  
The little hobbit went bright red after that and did not say much else.  
  
~  
  
I was in a Shakespearean mood writing that as I have just seen one of his plays. Arg! My head is filled with 'pray tell' and 'soft what' 


	26. Lost in the Darkness

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
MagicalRachel: I'm sorry! Forgive me! You have to admit, I am becoming the expert. There are different ways I can experiment in the, how you say, "torture de hobbit". Thank you *cough cough* Yes, I am almost recovered now. Turns out that hardly anyone was at school last week anyway!  
  
Koko Kung: Glad you liked both parts- they were fun to write! Lots more to come yet...  
  
Shirebound: Yes, very benighted Sam! Hehe, I thought you might like the part in Bag End- you mentioned liking Ellie and Frodo-lad before  
  
Bookworm2000: Why not try bribing your other self? Use food and presents etc :-) Aw, does your little cousin resemble a hobbit? That's so sweet!  
  
Alatariel: God, I hope you didn't scare anybody by screaming! Try not screaming now! Your Frodo suffering scene is coming up: Stay Tuned...  
  
AshNight: Wow! Thank you! I'm really pleased that you're enjoying this so much and I hope that the following chapters bring as much pleasure!  
  
Aelfgifu: I know! I love that ending, it's just so sweet. Little Elanor and her ickle brother...d'awww. I will help Samwise the Brave! Penman to the rescue *Superman theme tune*  
  
Lil*bee: Poor old Sam! He needs the sympathy vote right now...What am I saying, I'm the one who's got him kidnapped!  
  
Vedgiegirl: Yeah...happy...I should attempt writing happy *grabs Prozac from table and swallows about five* Sam is not happy either, poor fella!  
  
Radia: Nazgul rock? Nooo, wrong way! You bash Nazgul *with* a rock! Aw, glad you liked the Aggy and kiddy scene. I'm so pleased you like Rosie- it's great that she's turned out as a good character. Yeah, she sees herself as lower than everybody else. Which is so sad! *swallows another Prozac pill*  
  
Truefan: Wow, that was, er, blunt. Glad you liked it. Sorry 'bout the computer! Give it CPR! Give it CPR!  
  
I got 188 reviews! I'm so proud! Thank you everybody, you're making me so happy...so are the pills...Prozac is happy pills...happy *twitch twitch*  
  
~ Chapter Twenty-Six ~  
  
The soft drag of waves on the shore woke Bilbo from his vague dreams. He convulsively gripped the sides of the bed then sighed and let his muscles relax. He had not forgotten. Everything was still there. There was a hammering on the hatch above him and Gandalf stuck his head down.  
  
"Honestly, Bilbo? Just waking up? Come on, come on, get ready to go ashore! It's late and night's falling already."  
  
The wizard vanished the hobbit leapt up to follow. He scurried up the ladder and on deck to peer down at the Havens. They were as he had left them. Maybe a little more timeworn and bruised but...Bilbo felt relieved to feel that this was what Frodo would have found. And not something frightening or new in its place. He and Gandalf disembarked from their vessel and onto the pier. They waved to the helmsman and he slowly took the ship back out onto the rolling blue waves until he was no more than a white pebble among its shadowy waters. Gandalf turned to Bilbo and said,  
  
"Now, my friend, we have the task of finding Frodo. We can have no idea where he went."  
  
With that, he strode away up the beach and into the dark of the clustered trees. The hobbit ran quickly after him.  
  
--  
  
"Sir! Mr Merry! He is coming round!" Emáten called. Merry came running back from the river to join his companions. Frodo's eyelids fluttered and then they drew back. He sat up almost at once, looking desperately round and putting a shaking grip on Pippin's arm.  
  
"Sam," he said, "Sam, where is he?"  
  
"Lie down, sir. Now do you feel ill or in pain at all?" Emáten asked. The hobbit would not obey but sprung to his feet. He looked unhurt, just a little groggy and sleepy.  
  
"No, I'm fine. But where's Sam? Oh..." Frodo suddenly stumbled and fell to his knees. His friends were at his side in a moment. He had his head bent and eyes closed.  
  
"Frodo? What's wrong?" cried Pippin.  
  
"Tell us everything that happened," his cousin added. Frodo did not look up, but started falteringly on all that he could remember of that afternoon.  
  
"I don't know how I forgot. How could I have ever forgotten it? Just all of it. I must have hurt so many people- especially Sam. He told me. Told me about...about the Ring and it all came flooding back. It- it was like finding out the secret of creation in one go. Someone just telling you the meaning of life and it suddenly all making so much sense. I passed out. And I didn't want to come back and face what I had been part of. Because now I will never be rid of it; it fills my head. Last time it was like this, I had Sam... There was so much blackness. Wings. And shrieking...like a Black Rider. Now I'm lost in the dark."  
  
Then he fell into brooding silence. Pippin got to his feet.  
  
"Well then," he said simply, "We know what we've got to do."  
  
"What?" Emáten asked weakly. He was so criss-crossed with emotions he could hardly tell his own name anymore. He looked up hopefully into the hobbit's face. Pippin was confident.  
  
"We have to get Sam. If anyone will understand poor Frodo then it will be him. It's up to us to bring him back, isn't it?"  
  
"But whatever has happened to him?" cried Frodo, shaking the hair from his bleary eyes. The hobbits glanced at each other but said nothing. And Emáten just helped him up.  
  
"Come on. We had best be on our way. That crossing, Mr Merry..."  
  
Merry nodded and began to lead the way, his friends close behind. The sky was clear. Grey and streaked with black clouds. The air smelt of frost and the ground cracked underfoot. The grass was like crystal and the fallen leaves like amber jewels scattered across it. Deep scars of dew broke into the cold earth, like a shattered design of spears and pikes. Darkness was creeping up from the horizon in small fingers of night and the faint flickering of stars glittered in its web. They soon found the bridge further downstream. It was covered in cobweb like strands of ice that scrawled over it like pencil lines. Slick, grey frost tumbled through the gaps to the river's hard surface below.  
  
"Tomorrow," Emáten announced, "We will continue tomorrow."  
  
Pippin put out the bedrolls and gently laid Frodo down, covering him with two blankets. He bent down briefly to look at his cousin's face. It was unbearably pale. Like it had been in Cormallen. Almost deathly. He shuddered and turned to his own bedroll. Merry came across.  
  
"You think Sam can save him now?" he whispered.  
  
"Of course. I'd trust Sam with all our lives," Pippin replied at once. His friend smiled and nodded.  
  
"Yes. Me too."  
  
Emáten was gazing up at the stars. They were so bright. So distant. It made his heart pull as he remembered how far from home he was. But he knew that he could not afford to be homesick. Nevertheless, he let out a small sigh at the thought of his beautiful city. Dusted with snow and silver. He closed his eyes and pictured it in his mind. How wonderful... He could not help it- he missed his home. His friends and associates would be thinking he was the luckiest man alive. Spending time with the Ringbearer and his companions. And so he had believed himself to be for a long time. But now, somehow, there was more to it than that. There was a lot more to the Fellowship than fame and great wisdom. They were so friendly. So strong. Emáten understood now that this was how they made it through all that time ago. His lips parted in a great smile. Where would the world be without hobbits? 


	27. Letters to Frodo

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Shirebound: I've never written Bilbo before and he's quite a lot of fun! Very amiable. I'm so pleased you liked Ematen's bit- that was my favourite part to write  
  
Alatariel: You're becoming quite the loyal reviewer! It's a great idea about the Nazgul and I'm really sorry but I already have the idea for why one's returned. But I will certainly make the Nazgul's relationship with Frodo along the lines of revenge.  
  
Skye: After I read "Imprisoned", well, I feel so sorry for Sam now! Fantastic but Sam torture is just so heart-rending! Frodo can cope. *struggles to wriggle out of collar* Aaah! Save us, precious!  
  
Elf of Rivendell: D'aw, hobbity children. You like Gimli? Yay! He's just so wonderfully...beardy and, er, grumbly!  
  
ViNguyen: It's alright, calm, calm. I'm attempting to save Sam in this chapter. Note the attempt. He may die. God, no, I think I'm becoming the new Dark Lord! Gees!  
  
AshNight: I'm really pleased that the last chapter was your favourite. It was lots of fun to write. Even though I was depressed- sadistic torture always seems to lighten my day :-) God, I'm evil! Yes, indeed-y. Hobbits are *the* best. Go Frod-si! Oh, about writing a long story, it is amazing fun. Yes, I know the feeling about starting a fic then finding it doesn't work. It isn't really hard because I get so much encouragement, which is just wonderful!  
  
Jeva: Wow, er, wierdness... Hope it turned out OK and, er, hope you manage to unravel yourself from your computer chair!  
  
Bookworm2000: Wahay! No confusion! OK, I'll do my best to rescue Sam. I'm beginning to feel far too sorry for him to do otherwise! It's amazing...power...I could crash the Nazgul into a mountain if I wanted! Scary, man...  
  
Skye: Of course! You are a super-intelligent being from Middle-Earth, aren't you? Of course you are, don't argue. Oh, I'm so pleased you liked that description. I just always reckoned that Nazgul's voices were like that. Oh! I made a terrifying discovery. Turns out Frodo actually has green eyes! ARG! NO! (Imprisonment was fantastic! Really chilling.)  
  
~ Chapter Twenty-Seven ~  
  
Sam went on falling for what felt like eternity. Black skies spinning over his head. He could feel his stomach churning. And yet there was a strange emptiness, a void, that seemed to pump in his veins. A grey bleakness that smeared his mind- a painful knowledge. He had abandoned his master; well, not exactly that but he had allowed himself to be parted from Frodo again. He would never be able to forgive himself. Another failure. Sam caught a glimpse of the world as it span below and he let out a sigh. Maybe this was what he deserved after bringing his master to such harm. Had that Black Rider got him too? Sam sucked in breath in terror. It was almost too terrible to think about...  
  
The ground rushed up unimaginably fast. The black trees engulfing him in their spiny grasp and lashing out at the little hobbit tumbling down. But the trees took pity on him eventually, catching him in a net of leaves, sending down a shower of underbrush. Sam was dropped gently onto the damp earth then and darkness took him.  
  
--  
  
Aragorn was curled up in the bed. He could not get over the fact it belonged to Frodo. It felt so very wrong to sleep in the bed of one he so admired and cared for. The man felt a great wave of sadness spill over him at the memory of his friend. It was such a long time ago since he had seen him. It was almost as if Valinor, instead of taking Arwen, had taken Frodo. And now, finally, he had been returned to them.  
  
Legolas was sleeping in Sam's bed. Sleeping. It was an optional feature of the elf's life but he enjoyed the idea of shutting your body down for a time. He inhaled deeply, closing his eyes and letting night's calm wash over him. When he opened his eyes again, Aragorn's face was right overhead.  
  
"Aah!" he cried. But his friend's hand quickly covered his mouth. Pushing this side, he sat up. "What is it?"  
  
"Come... I have found something," Aragorn said with a smile. Legolas slipped out of bed and began to follow him across the room. Silence dogged at their heels. But it was a gentle peace that flowed like water all about; Bag End was sleeping, as well as its inhabitants. The companions reached the desk that had been pushed into the corner of the room. Aragorn quietly lifted the hatch and peered inside. It was a jumble of papers, journals, drawings and books.  
  
"You went through Sam's desk?" the elf hissed.  
  
"He is our friend. I am sure he would trust me not to take anything," Aragorn replied, "Now, look at this."  
  
He put his hand down into the folds of darkness and then drew it up again, holding a small and dusty book.  
  
"On Frodo's birthday, he gave Sam this. It reads so on the first page."  
  
Legolas took the book and went to the window to stand in a pool of moonlight. On the first page read a few lines of script speaking of how Frodo gave it to Sam on his birthday. Then, following this came a note.  
  
~ Frodo has left for the Grey Havens... ~  
  
Legolas put his hand to his face. He flipped to the next pages and found letters. Letters to Frodo.  
  
~ Ellie's well and Frodo-lad's almost as tall as my shoulder now! I wish you could see him... ~ ~ Had a dream last night. It was so frightening. And I woke up, thinking you were still here. But you weren't. ~  
  
"This is exactly what I did myself," the elf whispered.  
  
"So did I," his companion murmured, coming over. Legolas went to the end of the writing. It ended two and half years after Frodo had left.  
  
"This is what we all did. We all wrote to him and then slowly accepted that he had really gone. And now we see, don't we? I mean, there is more to it now. We must reunite the Fellowship. Because they have all been waiting for this day," Aragorn said.  
  
For a while, they just stood there, the book in each of their hands...remembering...  
  
~  
  
Short but longer ones will arrive soon... 


	28. In Dawn's Light

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. (Apart from Ematen) I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
AARRGG! I am so angry at Fanfiction! Most review names have been cancelled out and replaced with xing@fanfiction.net. I do apologise that I cannot actually reply to about three reviews because of this stupid fault but thanks to TrueFan, we have discovered that it does not appear to last and is just a minor setback. I wish the Fanfiction staff would stop screwing around with their site and making it worse rather than improving it. I'm sorry, I've finished ranting now...  
  
Shirebound: Ah! The plot thickens...Hehe, of course you can sleep at Bag End! Why not? I'm sure Rosie wouldn't mind. Oh, and I'd really like to see little Frodo-lad and Elanor. *sigh*  
  
ViNguyen: I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please forgive me but it was just a little kind of joining chapter to lead swiftly onto the next. One of my "pensive" moments, as they have been described  
  
MagicalRachel: I will rescue Sam...eventually, I promise! I know, Ch. 27 was my sort of normality falling back into place. No hobbit torture make Ailsa get cranky...Oh, but yay for the best Sam fic ever!  
  
Koko Kung: Bad FF.net! Bad Fido! I promise I will let you know about Sam. He will appear in ensuing chapters. Glad you liked the letters part. It was sort of one of my daydreams at school and I thought it fitted well  
  
Radia: Yes *cringe* I am a terrible one for the Frodo torture. I have to admit though, I've seen worse and far more alarming ones. I have never killed him yet! As for Sam, no way! You need not threaten me (although being hit with that book really does frighten me) I will never kill a hobbit as long as I live. I'm really pleased you liked the letters too. I don't think Sam would show Frodo those letters- might be a little odd. But maybe one day I could chronicle them... But I digress. Ah yes, Ematen is my character. He never appears in Lord of the Rings. But during my more boring school lessons, I have come up with his whole ancestry! Yay! Go blue-eyed Frodo!  
  
Alatariel: Hehe, I am honoured! I am delighted that this story is making you so happy! It is wonderful to know that my writing has made a difference for you. Yes! The Fellowship will meet! It's a shame that Middle-Earth residents hadn't mastered resurrection or we could even get Boromir back...Frankenstein style...  
  
Crazytook: What a lovely review! It is so lovely that you notice all the little details. It means a lot to me. The Nazgul part - only one has come back. I didn't think it could be possible for all of them so maybe just the one survived the Ring's destruction. No, Sam has been pushed off the Black Rider's dragon and is currently lying in some trees  
  
TrueFan: Randomness, yes indeed. Yay for Woot! Yes, I think you have a great accent. Very American. As for me, like you said, major English on my part. Sorry the chapter was short but glad you liked it anyway!  
  
Skye: Poor old Frodo. He's just such a sweetheart! I'm sorry, I know, I'm an evil torturess. I will try and mend my ways...it's just that this is a lot more fun  
  
~ Chapter Twenty-Eight ~  
  
Frodo woke in the dead of night. When all the world seemed to be asleep and only the wind swept the barren land around him. Darkness. The shadows that coiled about the trees that groped like gnarled hands at the sky. The hobbit pulled his blanket close to him, trying to block out the terrible black of the night. No moon swung in the sky and only a few stars pricked the horizon...like bright yellow eyes. Frodo sat bolt upright, breathing hard, the hairs rising on the back of his neck. No, Gollum was dead. Forever. Nothing could bring him back. But then, what had brought back the dragons of the Black Riders? If they returned, maybe Gollum would as well. Frodo curled up under his mantle and whimpered to himself.  
  
"Sam..."  
  
--  
  
A white frost laced the grassy hilltop. And beyond it stretched miles and miles of swaying corn and wheat. Bilbo clutched his side as he mounted the hill summit and stood gasping beside his friend.  
  
"How much further is Bag End from here?"  
  
"Do you not know?" Gandalf asked, raising one bushy eyebrow.  
  
"You seem to know a lot more about the world suddenly than I do. This all appears to be a lot less familiar. Do you think I have forgotten, Gandalf?" the hobbit cried and fear tugged at his heart. The wizard shook his head.  
  
"Of course not, you silly hobbit," he scolded, "You are doubting my ability to have cast this spell. But you said yourself at the path that you remembered absolutely everything. Do not be foolish, Bilbo. And stop jumping up and down, for goodness sake, calm down."  
  
They descended the bank to lower ground and proceeded to travel into the deep night. Wading through the fields and stumbling over fences, they managed to reach a crossroads and there sat down to catch their breath.  
  
"This is one thing I got used to while I was immortal," Bilbo gasped, "Not having all the bother of getting out of breath."  
  
"Oh, I think this will be good exercise for the both of us. Besides, we are almost at Michel Delving, I believe. We will press on from there and reach Hobbiton by the mid-morning. But I am sure that we will need to eat by that time."  
  
"Yes, of course," the hobbit replied, "I had quite forgotten about eating. How lovely! Now there is one virtue of mortality I had missed."  
  
"Yes," Gandalf said in a knowing tone.  
  
--  
  
...Far above the Shire, the dragon spiralled round and about, enfolding itself in shadows until quite invisible. The great scaly head made not a sound as it cut through the air like a blade. Upon its back, the Nazgûl rider watched and searched. Waiting...  
  
It was alone. No other of its companions had survived the storm of Mordor. Struck by their desire for the Ring, they were cast from the sky by flame and lightning and lost in the vast crevices that now welled up in the black lands. But this king had not fallen. Still stronger and more cunning than any other. And yet now it had nothing to achieve. It was the Nazgûl that had called for the Ringbearer.  
  
Sam had been a mistake.  
  
All hobbits looked the same to the rider. All it saw was weakness and frailty. But the Ringbearer, Baggins, was its key. A key into the Undying Lands. For once it reached Valinor, then it would be immortal. There, in Valinor, it would rule again. Sauron's spirit would not die yet. It lived in many things. In every orc, there was a flickering light of Sauron. In Moria, there stalked Sauron's shadow. Across the bleak wasteland of Mordor crept the broken figures of Sauron's creation. But it had died in all those things. All the orcs were gone. Moria was gone. Mordor now no more than a ruin. But the wraith lived on. The last remnant, the last shadow of Sauron.  
  
Only in Valinor would it finally be able to rebuild the Eye's kingdom. The commands rung in its head and the Nazgûl knew nothing else. And the only way into the Undying Lands was to get Baggins. The Ringbearer would finally be cast down. As Sauron determined an age ago.  
  
And now the dragon flew. Wild in the skies. A spirit caught among the clouds, tossing and turning. Death in flight. And from in the folds of black cloth, the Nazgûl issued a piercing scream that would wake the dead...  
  
--  
  
A grey dawn was flaming on the horizon. Emáten rose early to prepare breakfast for the hobbits. He was pleased to see Frodo asleep and came across to him. There was a strange beauty about him. An odd light. Though Emáten had heard many tales of such a thing, it was almost surreal for him to see. As if morning light was shining from Frodo himself and all the sun was within him.  
  
The man shook his head and smiled, pulling the blanket gently round the little hobbit's shoulders. He got to his feet and turned back to his small gathering of tinder. As he looked round for some flint or stone he could use to strike a spark, he found Pippin's eyes on him.  
  
"I trust you, Emáten," he said in a small voice, "Because you see it too."  
  
"What, Master Peregrin?"  
  
The hobbit shook his head with a smile and crawled up to sit next to him.  
  
"You see Frodo's light. That's what you're saving. I thought that maybe...you wouldn't really understand. Too wrapped up in the stories and grand tales of our adventure. But you've been wonderful. And now I understand myself that you will save us. Strider could not have chosen a better hero."  
  
He put his arms round Emáten and gave him a hug. Then Pippin turned back round and crawled under his blanket. Emáten sat alone on the windswept riverbank, feeling a smile creeping over his face. He had never felt so wanted, so special in all his life. And under the fading stars, he vowed to every member of the Fellowship, whispering the names under his breath one by one, that he would bring the hobbits to safety. Even if it took his life, Emáten would guide them to the South. 


	29. Lies

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. (Apart from Emáten) I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Fire Starter: Frightening name... Yay! I really hope you continue to enjoy this. Thank you so much for your review  
  
Mistoffelees: Sorry that you lost the story- I'm very bad with plots- always twisting and confusing people. Sorry! But I'm pleased it returned. Whoa, scary Rosie or what?  
  
Elf of Rivendell: Yeah, good old Bilbo. You his fan? I should start Bilbo torture! Mwa ha ha... I'm writing more, master, please don't strike us, precious!  
  
Koko Kung: Yay for the piccy- am dying to see it. Forgive me! I did not mean to leave it so long. I think I died briefly at one point during the weekend...can't quite put my finger on why...think I crashed out and fell unconscious. But I'm rambling. Your story is not pitiful, man! It's a great idea. It's original and well written. I really want to see what happens! I've received two emails from "midnight-time". Yay!  
  
ViNguyen: What are you all doing up at midnight? I can barely get up at midday let a lone the middle of the night! Chocolate *drools*... I'm going to need some for depression. The poor characters in my novel have all lapsed into deep lament, poor things and well, look at the Memories of Home guys. Not exactly the life and soul of the party, are they? Glad you enjoyed it!  
  
Alatariel: Have you camped out in front of your computer? :-) I'm so pleased that you're having fun reading this. O, loyal one!  
  
~ Chapter Twenty-Nine ~  
  
The hobbits and Emáten set off early, before birdsong even touched the air. They crossed the rickety bridge and passed over onto the Greenway. Often they called Sam's name and let their voices echo like bells across the landscape. But there was little aside from the roadway stretching into the distance for miles and miles. Limp trees clung to the embankments on either side and a tangled archway of branches passed overhead.  
  
"Emáten!" Merry called, "What is your horse's name?"  
  
"Celon. Why?"  
  
"Because he won't move. Does he accept bribes, perhaps?"  
  
Smiling to himself, the man walked back and took Celon's reins. Gently, he coaxed the beast under the shadowy camber and led him out into the puckered sunlight.  
  
Frodo was lost in thought. All the reasons. All the memories. It was like a great flood rolling and roaring in his head. He thought he might be free in the southlands. Free to discover who he was on his own. But the nightmares had defeated him. Worn him down to the weak, pathetic creature at his core. Frodo twitched and felt heat flare up within him. Not weak! There was no weakness!  
  
"No!" he hissed. No, he could not let It claim him too. He felt as if he was being pulled in a hundred directions at once. Old, dusty memories that had lain untouched for years. Such ages had passed since the quest and the Fellowship. And now memories flooded back to him, bringing light and hate on their crested heads. Memories of home. He needed Sam more than ever. Either Sam or... Frodo faltered in his step. No! He could not fall to that siren call again. That terrifying wailing, screaming that rung in his head and wound into the very fissures of his mind. Wearing him down. But he had survived! He had succeeded! A light blazed in Frodo's eyes so strong and bright it was as fire burning. But not the same elvish light as so many others saw. The Ring sang its venomous song to him. With words in the Black Speech, words of the Dark Lord that echoed and resounded like a heartbeat. But to the hobbit, it was a sweet lullaby that soothed his tormented mind. He faltered again. Tears sprang to his eyes.  
  
"I need you Sam. I can't do this without you," he whispered. The breath came laboured in his throat. Everything was tight. He had been free of this, for a few days. And before that...Frodo's face screwed up as he tried to force the memory to come to him. But still all he remembered was a long white beach. And days of sleep on a raft he had built himself. A gap between leaving the Grey Havens and returning to them. He swallowed hard. "Oh, Sam."  
  
--  
  
"Dear oh dear," Rosie muttered, yawning. She pulled the drawstrings on the pack tight and then passed it to Legolas. "There you are, sir. I've put in some bread, cheese, apples, walnuts..."  
  
"You did not need to do all this!" the elf cried. He bent down and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "Thank you for all your help. You have been just wonderful, milady." He put his face next to her ear and said in low tones, "And Gimli is very grateful too. Even though he does not show it."  
  
Rosie blushed and nodded.  
  
"Get on with you now, Master Legolas. Your friends are waiting. And remember, you be sure if you're ever passing through Hobbiton again, you drop in and I'll treat you to a great feast. Goodbye now! And give my love to Sam and Mister Frodo!"  
  
Her last words were a shout as the friends departed from the round green door. Aragorn was almost in tears as he waved to the two hobbit children waving frantically from the dining room window.  
  
"Bag End is truly greater than any palace I will ever know," he said. Legolas and Gimli nodded and all three of them let out a great sigh of disappointment as the green door closed behind them. They set off down the road, towards the Brandywine River, where they planned to follow it south to Sarn Ford.  
  
"We can drop in on Merry and Pippin," Aragorn said delightedly.  
  
When morning was late, they reached Merry's grand home and looked upon it with wonder.  
  
"Merry...Merry the hobbit inherited this?" Gimli breathed.  
  
"Apparently so," Aragorn replied faintly. He knocked on the door. There was some shuffling inside but no one came to greet them. The man knocked louder this time but to little avail. The noises went on until at last, after five attempts, the door was opened. It was a short, lank-haired hobbit with a glass in one hand.  
  
"Hello?" he snapped irritably.  
  
"Who are you?" Legolas cried.  
  
"What are you doing in Master Meriadoc's house?" shouted Gimli in indignation.  
  
"I am Delver and I am...um...looking after Meriadoc's house for him while he is away on business. Can I help you?"  
  
"Why are all those other hobbits digging into those drawers then?" Aragorn asked, peering over Delver's shoulder. Delver pulled the door shut behind him.  
  
"Friends of mine. Look, what do you want?"  
  
"We actually wanted to see Master Meriadoc himself," Legolas intoned.  
  
"Like I said, he's away. He and that lordly Took upped and left days ago. Went to see Frodo Baggins most likely and he's gone south. Did you hear that he's come back? After all these years. Lowly beggar. Goes off for months on some crackpot adventure and then comes back to drive away the perfect opportunity for industry then hangs around a year or two and then sails off! Always was a strange one and this proves it."  
  
"Aragorn...!"  
  
But there was a hiss of metal and Delver found himself backed into the doorpost at the point of a sword. Aragorn's face was a mask of fury.  
  
"Crackpot adventure? Lowly beggar? You can never understand what Frodo went through! He sacrificed everything so he could save your lands and the lands of strangers. If it was not for Frodo, you would be toiling under the whips of Saruman and the Dark Lord. You owe him *everything*!"  
  
Gimli cautiously put a hand on his friend's arm.  
  
"It's alright, lad. Just leave him."  
  
Aragorn drew back his blade and sheathed it again. But there was a lingering anger that still burned in him. Delver was clutching the place over his heart and had gone completely white. The companions left, following the path as it wound round to travel alongside the river. Soon, they were out of sight and Delver fair threw himself back inside and slammed the door shut.  
  
~  
  
This story is 36412 words long! More when this chapter is uploaded! And who inspired that? All my wonderful reviewers...I cannot thank you enough for how happy every single one of you make me. 


	30. Kal

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. (Apart from Emáten) I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Lil*bee: Yay! You return! I'm glad you liked that part- it was fun to write. Hmm...I enjoy getting people angry...worrying...  
  
Shirebound: I love that part. I guess that it was probably the inspiration for Aragorn's outburst- I'm happy that it worked out  
  
Alatariel: Ah, the wild countryside of the computer-room. No, I haven't been spying on you *hides camera behind back and promptly throws several photographs in the bin* :-) ARG! No! Please! Don't hurt us! They're working on it, I swear they are! You'll get your Fellowship  
  
Crazytook: Yay for your lovely review! I'm pleased you liked the Nazgul part- that was confusing to write. It was originally the witchking but Eowyn definitely killed him. Yes, I like the idea that the Nazgul still retain some human qualities from when they were mortal kings. This is so great that you're enjoying this!  
  
Koko Kung: Yes! Yes! I want piccy...Don't worry, my computer had a nervous breakdown last night (and my dog is having a mid-life crisis) and the internet decided I was not worth serving. Good. I am getting scared that I am the only one who sleeps!  
  
Mistoffelees: You're so mean to Merry! You want him to be sad? I want Delver to be sad. I'll kick him out a high window or something... More is coming! More is coming!  
  
ViNguyen: Yep, Aragorn is a king now and he has a temper. Damn though. Yet another FREE person. I'm still 13. I live in England. And I'm still slogging away in school. Bleah  
  
MagicalRachel: Yay for evil Nazgûl! Hope you had a great time in Northampton- sounded like fun. You don't like evil flame-eyed Frodo? Some of my best friends are corrupted Ringbearers! I apologise if Bag End does not appear quite so frequently from now on but every single character seems to have stopped there so far. I can't imagine what Rosie would be like if she got Galadriel, Celeborn and Elrond on her doorstep! Happy? Me? Heaven forbid!  
  
Skye: Bad life, down boy. Sorry, he does that a lot. :-) I adored Imprisonment and it was worth the wait, trust me. I don't give people enough anticipation time. Yeah, go evil Frodo! A little bundle of nerves and fire. I have to say, I'm not Pippin's greatest fan- I prefer his character in the book. I don't think I do some characters justice and Pippin's one of them. Yay for Bag End! I wonder if an evil Bag End would be better as well?  
  
The thirtieth chapter! We hit the thirtieth chapter!  
  
~ Chapter Thirty ~  
  
Moro looked up from his third pint of ale and saw a tall, cloaked figure wearing a pointed hat come through the inn door. He blinked and squinted his eyes. He banged his head on the table then looked again. The figure was still there. Moro got up and left the Green Dragon on legs of water, deciding that this was becoming a little much.  
  
Gandalf gazed round the battered inside of the Dragon, smiling widely. It was so much like home to him. The hobbits talking and laughing around the room. Then someone cried,  
  
"Well, I'll be! Gandalf, we thought you upped and left us!"  
  
The wizard glanced to where the voice came from. The bartender was beaming at him.  
  
"Anything to drink, Gandalf?" he asked. Gandalf shook his head.  
  
"No, I must be getting on to Bag End," he said.  
  
"Oh go on. On the house for an old friend, what do you say?"  
  
"Well, alright. But I cannot stay too long."  
  
Morning lingered. The wizard drank and spoke amiably with old friends from Hobbiton and Bywater. But true to his word, after his drink, he got up to go. He reached for the door handle when there was a sudden shriek overhead. Piercing the day like a blade. The door crashed open and Gandalf stumbled backwards. A small hobbit ran inside, slammed the entrance shut and bolted it. There was another scream that reverberated deep inside them all. The bartender dropped to his knees. The guests clustered together in a corner, terrified by the sounds. But Gandalf recognised it. And it filled him with a greater fear than he had ever known.  
  
"Bilbo..."  
  
He hauled himself to his feet and set about drawing the bolts back. The hobbit who had come in tried desperately to stop him. He was gasping for breath and his face was pale as snow.  
  
"No, sir, no! You mustn't go out there! It's terrible! Please, it'll catch you."  
  
"Where was it heading?" the wizard asked, "Where was this thing going?"  
  
"It's just spiralling above. Going round and round...sir, no! You can't- please, come back!"  
  
But Gandalf was running outside now, clutching his staff to him and his eyes fixed on the sky just overhead. There was a shriek and he spun round. There, like a black stain on the bright air, was the Nazgûl. It levelled out so that the dragon's eyes met with Gandalf's. The rider upon its back stared at him unseeingly, straight through him, as if it could see all his thoughts and emotions with a mere glance. There was no time for spells or curses. There was no time at all. The Nazgûl was diving. The jaws drew back to show teeth like swords and the wings filled with air like great raven sails.  
  
Gandalf ran. Along the narrow path and up the slope leading to Bag End. But he could not lead it there! Not to Bilbo. He changed his course and set out across the fields. Already he was coming short of breath and the dragon swooped close overhead, its claws barely missing him. Gandalf slid down an embankment and found himself in one of Farmer Maggot's enclosures. He clambered over a fallen tree and passed like fire across the meadow. The house loomed up before him. He ducked into the shadow and groped his way round until he found the front door. The Nazgûl shrieked again, so close this time. Gandalf threw himself through the door and collapsed in the hallway. Without a second thought, he gripped his staff tight then whirled back around and cried,  
  
"Kal!"  
  
Light exploded from the end of his staff, rushing out in a powerful tidal wave to engulf the immense form at the doorway. It screeched in agony as the light seared its eyes. The rider hauled its steed backwards, trying to escape the hideous brightness. They rose up into the sky until only a tiny pinprick remained.  
  
Gandalf sat gasping for a long while, feeling his heart pounding and thoughts clamouring. At last, with a great sigh, he got to his feet and for a moment looked down the hall. Farmer Maggot and his wife were standing there, clutching each other in terror, staring at the strange man that now stood in their house.  
  
--  
  
Sam felt sick. His head was still reeling from his fall and he had no idea how he could have survived it. But here he was.  
  
"Perhaps I was sent back...like Gandalf," he said aloud, mostly to keep himself company in the dark refines of his mind, "But why? He was sent back to save Middle-Earth. Maybe...maybe I was sent back to save my master. Why else?"  
  
Slowly, the world trickled into focus. The trees and sky above.  
  
"Well, I'll go and save him. Afterall, it was my fault. And what if that filthy Black Rider goes back for him? Oh, Samwise, you oaf! Come on, you've got to find him!"  
  
The little hobbit sat up dazedly. Everything was going round very slowly. It made his stomach lurch. But, iron-willed as always, he struggled to his feet. He leant heavily on a tree to one side as he staggered about, trying to get his balance.  
  
"Come on! Mister Frodo needs me now!"  
  
Sam staggered to the next tree and the next. Using each pillar-like trunk for support, he worked his way along a straight route that he hoped would eventually lead him out. He did not know where he was or what was going on beyond this forest. But he did know that he had to get to Frodo. So on he went, searching for the end to the bracken-y maze. The ground was drenched from rain and snowfall and often great piles of frost would slip from a branch and shatter amongst the ferns, making Sam leap with fear every time.  
  
"But this shouldn't be," he croaked. He swallowed hard and brushed a hand over his eyes. "No, it shouldn't. We got rid of any evil in this world. It's all dead. Apart from a Black Rider, we're still alright. And no orc is going to jump out on me now. My masters come home. He's waiting for me somewhere. And I'll warrant Emáten's looking after him just fine. So stop your worrying, Sam and go and find your friends."  
  
With fresh hope, the hobbit went on into the wintry wood, almost invisible against the dark earth and undergrowth. With no provisions or companions. Sam carried only hope.  
  
~  
  
Ooh, yay, longness. Kal, by the way, is elvish for "light" or "shine". I'm really sorry but on Sunday, I am going away for ten days to St Lucia. Thank goodness, a holiday at last! I just really hope that Frodo doesn't get his revenge on me and send the Nazgûl after the plane...I have deeply disturbing fantasies... 


	31. Never Any Time

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. (Apart from Emáten) I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Alatariel: Nope! They didn't get me! No Nazgûl followed my plane thank the Valar. To be honest, I didn't check. There was a bit of turbulence; come to think of it...do you really think Frodo would said them after me? *blanches* Oh yes, about your "friends". Bob, Fred and Mike all turned up on my balcony bearing ray guns (*not* very Middle-Earth I must note) and saying that they were ordered by "Fingers" Alatariel to make me write lots more. So I spent a lot of time working out more of the plot. Mmm! Very angst it will be. Emáten and Frodo mushy bit have they to come do. Mmm  
  
Elf of Rivendell: Knew you like the Aggy-rage part. :-) No, not the best, I assure you. Its just wonderful that you're enjoying this so much! More Aragorn bravery to come  
  
Koko Kung: Thanks for your comments here and for "Farewells". I really want that piccy! You artist, you. Hope to get it soon!  
  
MagicalRachel: Yeah! Sam's working on it. Loyal as he is and ever will be. I return bearing new chapters, my liege. I'm terrible! *curls up in a ball* My scale is all wrong and icky and aaaah! Loved the Merry fic! I'm reviewing it right after I've replied to your message...there.  
  
Crazytook: Nazgûl are nasty, dude. "The stuff of nightmares". Unlike Sam in every way. Oh, so happy you liked it!  
  
Bookworm2000: Thank goodness, but the virus seems to have dissipated for now. Hope it doesn't rise again *twitches*  
  
Lady Laura: Yes, I have been accused of updating quickly in times past. Whoo! Go Nazgûl, eh? That is totally the idea of what he's thinking. Very evil guy. Kind of like my IT teacher...but I digress. I love your rantings! Rantings make my day! Rant, my friend, please! Ah, I luckily escaped the Nazgûl. There was no sign of them. For the time being at least...  
  
ViNguyen: England is rainy. Beautiful, hilly but very wet and cold. Yeah, France is a lot nicer. Hehe- go you and outsmarting french shop attendants! :-) More Sam to come!  
  
Skye: Great! Now you can tell everyone that you mean "shine light". Cos you do- you bring light to thousands of readers' lives. Especially with poor little Sam- you're torturing him worse than me! Not that that is nesecasrilly a bad thing... Yay! Now Emáten has family. Ooh, I can play my sadistic games again! My mum went kind of crazy with this toaster on holiday and took great pleasure watching her bread burn. I think there is a bit of heritage in the sadism thing here  
  
Mistoffelees: Yes- got your name right. Sorry, I have to check it a couple of times before typing it up. Um, to be honest, I don't know if Kal is Sindarin. I reckon so. It's from The Silmarillion appendices. Yeah, lossa groovy Gandalf is fun to write!  
  
AshNight: Whoa! What a cool dream! I had one the other night, where the hobbits were roasting a piece of wood over a cauldron and it collapsed and covered everyone in water. Lots of dancing with Elijah in my dreams... Thank you, I did have fun. Sand, sea, sun and sleep. Hope California was good too! I hear it gets really hot around this time  
  
Thank you so much everyone- my holiday was wonderful. It was great to be able to come back and read such lovely reviews. And I promise, I've worked out a good part of the story- there isn't much more to go.  
  
~ Chapter Thirty-One ~  
  
The companions trekked along the riverbank in silence. Gimli, his chest under all its chainmail still swathed with bandages, rode up on Brégo, gripping on with all his might. He kept his eyes on Aragorn's back, trying to work out the man's emotion. But he just kept a steady pace and his face portrayed no sign of anger or sadness. Nevertheless, a great weight had fallen on his heart. This was all Frodo had had to come back to. Ingrates! He had seen to it that in his own kingdom, the Fellowship were celebrated and remembered for their heroism. This was all wrong. Aragorn could not help but shudder with disgust at the thought of all the terror Frodo passed through only to find ignorant, ungrateful hobbits waiting for him at the end. No one could possibly understand the fear they had seen on that quest. And it warmed him that Legolas and Gimli were near him. He looked up and smiled at the elf. Legolas returned it and put an arm round his shoulders.  
  
"We will find him and just imagine how it will be then," he said. The king nodded and felt a swell of adrenaline inside him. He was going to see Frodo and Sam again! They might even find Merry and Pippin there already too. It was too wonderful to believe.  
  
"Come on! There is no time to lose!" Aragorn cried. He turned and swung himself onto Brégo's back. Legolas looked up and raised his eyebrows.  
  
"Now? We are going now?"  
  
"We are going to see Frodo! The hobbits!" Aragorn laughed, "It is time to reunite the Fellowship."  
  
Legolas paused then he laughed too and climbed on in front of his friend. Brégo galloped away along the shimmering Brandywine, carrying his riders south. He fair flew through the misty air, he himself feeling the presence of the Ringbearer growing stronger.  
  
--  
  
"Bilbo!"  
  
Bilbo's head appeared round the dining room door. His face lit up.  
  
"There you are Gandalf! We were getting worried about you. No need, no need I see."  
  
The wizard rolled his eyes with frustration and grabbed the hobbits hand.  
  
"We are leaving. It is worse than I thought. We have no time. Never any time. We cannot afford to linger now," he cried, dragging Bilbo towards the door. Rosie came running out.  
  
"Mr Gandalf?" she said faintly, steadying herself on the wall. Gandalf smiled and bowed quickly.  
  
"Sorry for such a fleeting visit, my good lady. But time is of the essence. Maybe we could see you for longer another day?" he replied, as courteously possible. Without waiting for an answer, he whirled back around and threw open the door. He squinted quickly at the sky then pushed Bilbo out in front of him and ran out onto the path. Rosie came and waved frantically to the two rapidly diminishing figures, looking quite ridiculous with one so tall and the other so short.  
  
"Bye!" she called, "But I'm not your lady!"  
  
She heard Gandalf's laughter ringing out like bells.  
  
"Goodbye, Miss Rosie!" he called. And then they were gone. Rosie leant against the door with a heavy sigh. All these guests going in and out. She felt as if anyone would walk into Bag End now. Though she could not imagine who else could possibly appear! Everyone seemed to have risen up out of memory and they all suddenly had purposes and tasks to attend to. Except her.  
  
"I'm Sam's lady," she muttered to herself, "And I wish he was here to see it. Oh, I miss you, Sam, my love."  
  
--  
  
Sam stumbled forward and suddenly found himself on a path. He studied it critically, looking it up and down, searching for any familiar feature or design. But there was nothing familiar about this place at all.  
  
"Oh," he groaned, "I could be anywhere in the world. And there's Mister Frodo waiting for me to come and find him. What I need now is Strider. A ranger like him would have no trouble finding the way, I'll warrant."  
  
He sat down glumly by the road. What could he do? If he went the wrong way down the path, it would take him yet further into this wilderness. Perhaps both ways were useless. In which case, where on earth was he to go? It seemed utterly hopeless. The thought made Sam look up sharply.  
  
"No, Sam. You promised never to give up hope for your master. And whether you failed him or not, you stuck by him and you got him out of that awful black tower. He's depending on you now. So don't go and give up hope after all that effort."  
  
Getting to his feet, he slipped off his pack, battered and holed by his fall, and delved inside to draw out a worn coin. One side was printed with some words in Arda but the other was blank.  
  
"If it lands on the words, I'll go that way," Sam ordained, pointing down the left route, "And if it lands on the clear, I'll go that way," and he signalled to the right. Clutching the coin tight in his palm, he prayed that the Lady would hear his words and somehow send him in the right direction.  
  
"Please, Lady Galadriel," he whispered as he flung the coin into the air. It spun and danced above him, catching the light and sending it bouncing off the trees in a flurry of confusion. For a second, it seemed to pause in its mad flight and spin backwards, then it tumbled down to land resolutely on the ground. Sam peered at it.  
  
"Left it is then. I trust you, Lady Galadriel and I just hope you'll be able guide me to Mister Frodo. If you're not to busy, mind."  
  
And with that, he picked the decider from the ground and turned westward.  
  
~ Far away, Galadriel smiled. ~  
  
~  
  
Has anyone else heard of Flavia Bujor? She's apparently the new French literary sensation and is only 14! My uncle got published at that age too. Hmm...I bet if say, shirebound, Skye, MagicalRachel and Jeva sent off a couple of manuscripts, then we could have Fanfiction literary sensations! Yay! 


	32. From Darkness Into Light

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. (Apart from Emáten) I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Radia: Loved my holiday, thank you. St Lucia is a small island in the Caribbean and it's so warm... Don't worry about it, my geography is about as good as a mole's. Brégo (hopefully) will be OK but its nice to see that you're concerned for him. Poor Brégo! Rosie still has a little part to play in the story yet in a very Rosie-frame-of-mind too. She's a lot of fun to write! You want this fic to keep going? It's got about four or five more chapters to go, if that's any consolation and I do have a vague idea for another... Arg! Please don't hurt me! I'm writing *stares at blistered hands* Oh, yes, I remember reading some of Budgielover's work, somewhere. Another hobbit torturer, I believe? Thanks for the recommendation! But, man, you are freaky! You and your Nazgûl friends...  
  
Shirebound: Thank you! I find it's always a lot more interesting to write a story if you can skip from one scene to another. A different environment so one doesn't go a little flat. That's what you're really good at- keeping one place so realistic and exciting all the way through a fic. The Fellowship will come together! They've got to!  
  
Skye: Yes, you detailed Tolkien-impersonator, you. I don't know, I think if you sent off an example of your work to publishers, they'd publish it. Unlike SOME publishers who don't like me at all...*mutters about Puffin and David Fickling darkly* More evil Frodo to come!  
  
ViNguyen: Oh dear! Well, I hope you did well on your tests. Not only that but you all get well soon! How awful for both your brother and sister to get ill. Huggles to them and you!  
  
MagicalRachel: We can give you time! *hands over big sack filled with little coloured balls reading '1 minute'* Now write! Write! The sun frazzled my hair, I'm surprised it didn't get to my brains, actually! Oh, glad you liked that line, I thought it sounded quite Sammish. Yay for your Merry fic! And an impatient yay for Olympics! Nah, I'm kidding- I just can't wait for the next chapter  
  
QTPie-2488: First off, I would like to thank you for your wonderful reviews for both Lost in Moria and Trials of Lórien. I am so grateful for all the time you spent reading my fics. Yes! Frodo has returned, but to what purpose...?  
  
Alatariel: I'll get the Fellowship together! If it's last thing I do! And at this rate, it probably will be. Not long now, I promise!  
  
Elbereth: Ah! Another Sam fan. Glad you liked that line- he gets all the poignant stuff here.  
  
TrueFan: Hooray! You return! Go you on your science test! *blush* No, I'm not a literary sensation. Or I wouldn't have got rejected another time. *angry grumbles* Sorry- but I love that song! Gets my feet going, anyhow. Yep, loved my holiday, thanks. Me? I'm fine. I'm writing. St Lucia is in the Caribbean and it's lovely! Where you going for Spring Break? Or are you just lounging? Lounging's gooood. How are you then? And most importantly, how is the funky red lamp? :-D  
  
~ ~ No! My book (Dogs are at War) got rejected. Again. First by Puffin and now by David Fickling. Damn *does Gretta Garbo pose* I vant to be alone...  
  
~ Chapter Thirty-Two ~  
  
"Gandalf, why all the rush?" Bilbo asked as he was fair dragged through the Hobbiton fields.  
  
"Do you not even remember why Frodo went back, you foolish hobbit?" the wizard cried in exasperation, tripping on his robes. Bilbo did not reply for sometime but then said, very slowly,  
  
"It really has returned, then? The Black Rider has come for Frodo?"  
  
"He left to try and stop the last Nazgûl but he will not remember. I thought we had more time than this to find him."  
  
"But what will he do? Frodo can't face a Black Rider," Bilbo cried. He was in terror for his cousin and though he longed to see him again, safe and happy, he loathed to give him the news. What could any of them do against a wraith?  
  
"Gandalf, couldn't you do something?"  
  
"What do you suggest? I could throw light at it- blind it. But I could not destroy a creature of the night. Not alone. That is why we need to bring the Fellowship together again. Only with their combined efforts may Frodo find a way of vanquishing this evil. Somehow."  
  
Gandalf stopped then and the pair stood together on the very hilltop Frodo had as he gazed out across the Shire. There, the wizard pursued his lips and whistled. The note echoed across the landscape for miles, singing out its song as clearly as the first bird of the morning. Then, for a moment, silence reigned. The air was like glass. Muffled hoofbeats could be heard approaching. Bilbo spun around and gasped in awe as he saw Shadowfax breach the horizon.  
  
"Shadowfax," Gandalf said, "So you have not forgotten me."  
  
--  
  
Brégo cantered down the riverbank and reared suddenly as a high-pitched note pierced the air. His riders could not hear it but the horse knew it was a summoning call. He turned and snorted, stamping his hooves and searching for the caller.  
  
"What is wrong, Brégo?" Aragorn asked, coming close to his ear, "What do you hear?"  
  
The horse twitched then fell calm. The note had faded away. But there was still a sound. Brégo paused, listening intently to the cries. He lifted his head and searched the trees in the distance for any sign of life. Legolas was looking too. After a while, he let out a yell of surprise, making his companions wince. Gimli turned round in the saddle to glower at him.  
  
"What was that for?"  
  
"You will never believe who is coming towards us from the woods yonder," the elf replied. He leapt down from Brégo's back and began sprinting down the Brandywine, waving his arms and laughing loudly.  
  
"Who...?" Aragorn started as he squinted at the horizon but then he heard Legolas call again.  
  
"Sam! Sam, it's us!"  
  
"Sam? But what is he doing here?" Gimli cried. But Aragorn was already running. His heart was flying ahead of him, eager to embrace the hobbit and hear his voice again. Eleven years seemed suddenly to weigh down on his shoulders.  
  
Sam flung his arms round Legolas' knees, bringing him crashing to the ground.  
  
"Master Legolas!" he cried, "I never thought I'd see you this day. I never- I-"  
  
But he was too overwhelmed to say more. Aragorn came next, falling down next to his friend and immersing Sam in a huge embrace. Too choked with tears to say anything at all, they just sat there in a circles, arms interlinked and eyes shining. In the end, they were forced to look up when Gimli fell off the horse.  
  
--  
  
Emáten sat down by the side of the path and Merry and Pippin collapsed on either side of him. They delved into their packs and took out as much food as they could. As the hobbits tucked in, Emáten got to his feet and went to stand beside Frodo.  
  
"Frodo...?" he ventured nervously, "You must try and eat something. You have had no rest, food or water all day. If there is anything wrong, well, I know I am not the person you would tell but Master Meriadoc and Master Peregrin...do you not think Sam would want you to be happy and well?"  
  
Frodo flinched at the mention of Sam. He gazed up at Emáten and the man bit on his lip, averting his eyes.  
  
"Emáten," Frodo said quietly, "I am haunted by the Ring." There was something deeply frightening in those blue eyes just then. What appeared to be a flame. "Like a darkness that grows in my mind...and I cannot be rid of it. It wants something. It wants me to do something for It. Go to someone. But I won't...I can't let It control me again." The flame grew, enveloping the pupils of Frodo's eyes. Emáten lunged out and grabbed him by the shoulders, his heart pounding in fear.  
  
'Ash nazg durbatuluk, ash nazg gimbatul, ash nazg thrakatuluk, agh burzum- ishi krimpatul...'  
  
"Emáten! Emáten!"  
  
The man was dimly aware of Pippin's voice, as if calling him from a far distance. Someone shaking him.  
  
"Stop it Frodo! What are you doing to him? Get off him!"  
  
In his mind, Emáten saw a black chasm open. Frodo was standing there, surrounded by fire, trapped by the blaze. Behind him, a great eye loomed, encased in the body of the One Ring.  
  
"Help me, Emáten! Please...don't let It take me again!" Frodo screamed as the eye drew ever nearer. Emáten, almost out of his mind with terror, plunging into the golden flames, lifting Frodo clear. Then he was running into unfathomable darkness. Shadows danced and grew all around, threatening to plunge down on them both. And then there was a great light. It filled the caverns of the hobbit and the man's mind, flowing over the iniquity in a wave of diamonds. Emáten could feel himself floating and his eyes, which he did not know had been closed, flickered open. And he found himself looking up into the face of the king. 


	33. The Fellowship

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. (Apart from Emáten) I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
AshNight: Aw! How unfair! The second you go down to a beach, the weather gets nasty. Blimey! Sorry, I didn't mean to confuse you. I took one line out that read "it felt as if two realities were merging together" which kind of explains it. Emáten is in Frodo's mind- seeing what Frodo sees, almost. A sort of trance, yes. Thanks for the words of support- turns out Oxford University Press want to see some of my work!  
  
MagicalRachel: Well, what else did you expect? I am the embodiment of Frodo torture! Mwa ha ha! Olympics bunnies! *froths at the mouth* More, more, MORE!  
  
QTPie-2488: You a fan of Mez and Pipz? Yeah, they rock! Lossa food *does food dance*  
  
Holly Wood: Sorry you've been ill! What was it? Feeling better now? Frodo isn't but he sends his best regards- *glowers at Frodo and Frodo stops waving maniacally* That's no way for a tortured, ringbearing, half-mad hobbit to behave!  
  
Mistoffelees: I wasn't sure about ending the paragraph on that but you got it in one- too good to pass up. Gimli *is* humour. :-))  
  
Koko Kung: What a cool picture! Loved the comment beside it- I think that suits her attitude down the ground! Hopefully not all the chapter was cute. I mean, Frodo attacking Emáten isn't exactly puppy material!  
  
ViNguyen: Lucky you! I went back weeks ago from my break. Now you'll have time to read my work...nah, I'm kidding- relax, man, that's all the holiday is for! *blushes furiously* M'not that good. *blush* I just write a lot of the time. I'm sorry! I don't want to ruin you! Probably you'll write a best- selling cult and end up with bazillions of pounds and I'll die penniless. It's just the story of my life...in a...weird...but...oh, never mind. Bleah!  
  
~ Chapter Thirty- Three ~  
  
"Sam...but...I don't understand," said Merry, holding the hobbit at arm's length. "What happened?"  
  
"Merry, we have to get Mister Frodo somewhere safe."  
  
"Aragorn," Gandalf said, turning to the ranger, "We have to get Frodo somewhere safe. And there is no time to explain. We must take him south, but away from your people. Maybe there, we can decide what to do."  
  
The king was shaking his head as he tended to Emáten.  
  
"Gandalf, we cannot move either of them. I do not know what has happened here but it has almost killed them both. For the time being, we will have to stay here and wait for them to come round. So we have plenty of time to talk and explain. Have all the inhabitants of Valinor suddenly decided to return?"  
  
"No, my dear ranger!" Bilbo laughed, making the two figures jump, "There is a mission at hand. We have not just all decided to come back- you're wrapped up in an intricate net of events and happenings. But things, I believe, are not going to plan for our enemy."  
  
"Not another enemy, surely?" Aragorn could not help sighing, "It seems that we have faced every black or mildly untamed creature in existence!"  
  
"But who is to say you destroyed them?" the wizard replied. Aragorn looked at him and froze.  
  
"Sam said exactly the same thing. He said that something is chasing Frodo- he was too distraught to tell us what- and somewhere he said something about the lord of Valinor and kept shouting about Black Riders. Does that mean anything?"  
  
Just then, Legolas, Gimli and the hobbits came running across to the company. They were all very pale.  
  
"Sam told us," Pippin gasped, "About the rider. Is it all true? Gandalf, what's going on?"  
  
"First Frodo comes back and doesn't remember anything, then he does remember. Sam is captured by a Black Rider and then Gandalf and Bilbo return and Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli turn up too! It's like, we've been drawn together bit by bit. What's happening? It all seems to have happened so fast!"  
  
"The Fellowship have come together," Legolas breathed, "That is what has happened. Can you not see? Frodo, Aragorn, Gandalf, Gimli, Sam, Merry, Pippin and me. The Fellowship has been reforged."  
  
"And it is only the Fellowship that can save Frodo now," said Gandalf. "Look, the easiest thing to do now is try and explain things from the very beginning. We of Valinor can always see this land. There are many ways of staying with the ones we love. In dreams, perhaps. Or merely in spirit. To watch over. That is how we learned of a Nazgûl's return. It has been living in the Misty Mountains for many years now and only by much work of the elves were we able to see into its mind and discover its intent. It wants Frodo. For he is the key to Valinor. Should the rider carry Frodo with it across the Endless Sea, it would reach Valinor and there become immortal. It would reclaim Middle-Earth and the Undying Lands. Sauron's power would be restored and this time, it could not be quenched. Frodo learned of this and determined to return and warn you all. It was his quest. But I believe it became more than that. From Valinor, I watched his mind, and as memories were stacked aside, I saw that his intent had changed. He was going to face the Nazgûl. And so things have come to this. So little time at all. With the combined efforts of the Fellowship, we will be able to destroy this creature."  
  
There was a long silence. Around them, the chill wind blustered and swirled, ringing Gandalf's words to the heavens. The clear and evil intent of the wraith echoed in the skies and Sam fancied he could even hear its shriek in the distance. There was a sudden moan from Emáten and they all jumped to life. Aragorn bent over him and gently called him until his eyes flickered open. Emáten screwed up his face, trying to focus on Aragorn.  
  
"Either I am dreaming," he said in a paper-thin voice, "Or the king has woken me from darkness."  
  
"Oh, Emáten!" Sam cried, falling down next to Aragorn, his face wreathed with a smile, "You're alright! We were all so worried."  
  
"Sam? But how...I do, I mean, I... Is it just me or are the Fellowship of the Ring seated about me? I must be dreaming!"  
  
He shut his eyes again and opened them one at a time. Astonishment, then fear tore across his face.  
  
"What I saw. That was no dream. I saw...I saw into Frodo's mind. Where is he? Is he alright?"  
  
"He is alright, if feeling a bit ill," came Frodo's voice from beside him. They all sat back as the hobbit and man embraced warmly. Sam felt a glow inside him to see his master again- still safe. And it truly was his master. With every memory and strength that he had ever possessed. The elvish light burned anew. He and Emáten glanced at one another and smiled. It was up to them to keep that light alive.  
  
When it was mentioned, Frodo nodded sagely.  
  
"Yes. Yes, I remember every bit of it now. Oh, what a fool I've been!"  
  
Gandalf put a hand on his shoulder.  
  
"But you came back, my dear hobbit. You came to warn your companions, although you knew what would happen. You were willing to sacrifice your memories to return."  
  
"Yes..." Frodo said thoughtfully. He paused a moment then nodded to himself. Taking a deep breath, he went on, "We must go north. That is where the rider was seen last and, well, I don't think it will have gone far. How could it have known that I left? And we have three horses so we could all ride there. Come on!" He got shakily to his feet, leaning on Bilbo and smiling round at everyone. "We are a fellowship again. Who can withstand us now?" 


	34. Ride North

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. (Apart from Emáten) I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Eldalie Aranel: Whee! What a cool name! So pleased you're enjoying this  
  
Shirebound: Ah, Bilbo has a purpose once more. He won't be left behind, not for anything. "My heart tells me Bilbo has some part to play yet, for good or ill."  
  
ViNguyen: *does native African dance and sings haunting songs* I'm not ruining you! I'm not ruining you! *wails and the spirits rise from the grave* Oh yeah, and I saw your submissions to theonering.net- where did you find it all? :-))  
  
Crazytook: I'm ecstatic that someone liked the Emáten-Frodo bit, because it was so much fun to write. Well, with Boromir, you've actually hit the nail on the head. They want Emáten to be part of something and...well, I'd give too much away if I went on but Boromir does arise later on. Glad the reunion went well!  
  
Alatariel: See? I did it. And I'm not dead! I actually got the Fellowship back together again! *collapses*  
  
Holly Wood: Glad you're feeling better. Colds are miserable... Yes, you spotted my subtle mention of "let him go!" or something. Frodo did attack Emáten but nevertheless, Emáten saved him. It sounds like a formulae now! Fellowship - Boromir + Emáten + Bilbo = really strange story  
  
Bookworm2000: All is forgiven, my friend! I can't expect you to review all the time! You have a life, unlike me. Brilliant! Glad it's making sense now. I didn't mean to make it confusing, honest!  
  
TrueFan: Wahay! The Long Reviews return! Like the li'l rhyme. Oh, *drool* you went to the Dominican Republic? Ahhhhhhh *drools* Never mind- at least you had fun on your snowboarding holiday. Yay for the red lamp! Yay for the red lamp! I should start a cult. Come, all red lamp in TrueFan's house lovers! You know, I'd almost forgotten about Lost in Moria. But when you mentioned it, I went back and read a bit. Man, I so torture hobbits! My evilness returns... But you should see what I've got lined up for this lot!  
  
AshNight: Frightening and cool, what more could I ask for? Thank you! You're not slow. It's just me who's a very surreal writer and likes to write things in dreamy Salvador Dali ways. Don't worry, I will let the whole world know when my book comes back from Oxford- it's being sent up on Monday. Wish me luck!  
  
~ Chapter Thirty-Four ~  
  
North. It was nothing but a cold hard horizon cut slicing through the landscape. Shadowfax bore Gandalf, Frodo and Sam, on the back of the steadfast Brégo sat Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. And poor Celon was forced to carry his master, Emáten, Pippin, Merry and Bilbo. The horses were treated like kings from that day forward. They travelled all morning up the Greenway and crossed the Brandywine at noon. They did not stop for meals or rest. On and on, they rode until the hill of the Shire hove into view. Shadowfax moved as if weighted by leads up its slope, the two other steeds following behind. Just as Celon mounted the brow of the rise and they all looked out across the Shire, a shriek cut through the air. A black shape moulded like the birth of darkness in the sky. Its wings unfolded and the dragon faced them head on, its teeth glittering. The rider saw them all; ten companions standing on the crest, gazing in terror back at him. It dived...  
  
Shadowfax reared and his silver hooves connected with the dragon's face. Pure darkness crashing into pure light. It screeched and soared away but higher up, it turned to lunge again.  
  
"Ride!" Gandalf cried. The horses, blinded with sweat and shaking with fear, galloped down the slope on the opposite side, oblivious to the cries of their masters. They cantered westward, heading for lower and more sheltered ground. The Black Rider wheeled overhead and Frodo felt the wound in his shoulder throb. But then it had gone. With only a faint echoing shriek left hanging in the air. They called the horses to a halt.  
  
"Now where do we go?" gasped Frodo, "Wherever we go, I will draw the rider to me. We will have to face it in the end."  
  
"But not here. And there is nowhere in the Shire we can get to that will not endanger others," Gandalf said.  
  
"Then let us go north!" Aragorn called from where his horse had wandered, "That is my territory and I know many places where Frodo may be safe."  
  
"Why not the Grey Havens?" cried Pippin suddenly. Everyone looked at him. He looked down awkwardly. "Well, no one will get hurt there. We can go up onto the cliffs and...throw the rider off into the sea...?"  
  
They were all silent for a moment as they contemplated this. One by one, they gazed across at Pippin, eyes shining.  
  
"Pip, that's brilliant!" Frodo exclaimed.  
  
"Onwards then," Gandalf commanded, "Come, Shadowfax, we ride to the Grey Havens. There this affair began and there...it shall end."  
  
The stallion wearily obeyed. He ground his hooves into the earth and bounded into a small gully. His two companions close behind, Shadowfax followed the ravine along and then rode up the embankment and onto a path. Sam looked uneasily back at the skyline. There was no sign of the Nazgûl. But he knew from experience, that you rarely noticed them before it was too late.  
  
--  
  
Night was falling. Shimmering lights appeared in the sky and the moon rose coldly before the clouds. Far below, the hobbits of Michel Delving were travelling home from the inns and from the company of their friends. But, just outside the borders of the little community, a procession of moonlit figures passed phantom-like through the trees.  
  
--  
  
The banners of Osgiliath hung limply from their poles. Confetti strewed the roads and bridges. But it was a dead celebration. The Ringbearer had not returned to them. But the people still steadfastly believed that when he was ready, he would come and they would be able to praise him all they liked.  
  
"I wonder if he will have changed at all," Eowyn murmured, wrapping her arms in her cloak. Faramir looked at her.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Oh, Faramir, you know!" his wife laughed, "Frodo! Do you think he will have changed?"  
  
"What was there to change? He was strong, courageous and good-hearted. I cannot think why he would have. And I don't suppose he will have changed in appearance. For Valinor preserves your youth."  
  
"Yes. Faramir, it will be just so wonderful to see him again! I miss the hobbits more than I believed possible."  
  
The man put his arms round her and kissed her on the forehead.  
  
"Me too," he said quietly.  
  
--  
  
Night failed at the Grey Havens. The sun was rising at the company's backs and doubt was beginning to tug at Frodo's heart. He knew what he had planned to do. He remembered everything now. And though he now possessed every memory of his life before, so they brought terrible choices for him. To the Nazgûl, he was no more than a necessary tool to access Valinor. Without him, the rider could not enter there. Was that the only way? He contemplated this as the landscape rolled past on either side and the sun's light dipped the cliffs in gold.  
  
The three horses mounted the cliff slopes and galloped up to their summit and gaze down on the sea and Havens far below. The view was astounding. On one side, the earth was patched with melting snow, leaving caps of white on every tree. And on the other stretched the blue wilderness of the ocean, dotted with the white crests of waves. Dew and frost cracked under foot as the friends jumped down from the exhausted steeds.  
  
"What now?" Pippin asked brightly.  
  
"We wait, I suppose," Legolas replied, looking towards Gandalf. The wizard nodded.  
  
"There is nothing else to do."  
  
So they sat and in the bitter cold, they exchanged tales of before. What had passed over the years. Slowly, gaps were filled and secrets shared among the friends. They welcomed Emáten to their circle but he said that it felt wrong. Instead, he stood at Celon's side, stroking his mane and gazing wistfully out to sea.  
  
After dawn had passed, Merry got to his feet and came over to Emáten.  
  
"Why don't you come and sit with us?" he asked, "Do we smell that terrible?"  
  
The man laughed and shook his head.  
  
"No, it...it is not that, Master Meriadoc," he said, "But, I do not think I really belong there. You see, I always dreamed of being part of the Fellowship. And I never once truly believed that I ever would. Yet even now, when I am given the chance to share in it, it just feels wrong."  
  
"Is it because of Boromir?" the hobbit asked gently.  
  
Emáten nodded. "I never want to take anyone's place. He was a member of the Fellowship. And I never will be. I cannot be. What have I done to deserve such an honour? He died to save his friends. I do not want to replace that. Nothing can replace Boromir."  
  
"That's right," Merry said, "Nothing will. That's why you're not. You are Emáten, not Boromir. And you are a hero in your own right. No one will ever take Boromir's place in our hearts. But there are more than nine places in our hearts, you know. The Fellowship is not just nine companions. It does not represent a group of people who went out into the world but it does represent what they did it for. You understand that. I see you as another part of this body. Another face in the Fellowship."  
  
Just then, the whole cliffside rang with the screech of a Nazgûl. It echoed across the fields and the forests and right across the Endless Sea. The black dragon reared up from the trees far below.  
  
~  
  
Nearly done. Only about three more chapters left, I promise! 


	35. No More Pain

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. (Apart from Emáten) I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Shirebound: *blush* Thank you. It just sounded quite Merry-ish and it was my sort of "motto" for the day :-)  
  
Eldalie Lavinia: Yeah, well, this name rocks too! Don't you want the story to end? A climax? Climaxes are fun to write...  
  
AshNight: Yay! The return of the terrible cliffhanger! Woohoo! I hope I give you a good ending. It would be sad to end this story badly when I've enjoyed writing it so much. Thanks for the luck! *catches luck and puts it in a jar*  
  
ViNguyen: I liked the LOTR cast thing-y- very funny! Glad you liked the Emáten and Merry bit. What's the glare for though? *puppy dog innocent eyes*  
  
Crazytook: Sorry it flipped so abruptly but I wanted to get across the urgency of the scene. Glad I could explain things to you, I feel bad when I get people confused! Yeah, I thought that Merry deserved a little mature conversation. Frodo gets all the fun (if you can call torture fun)  
  
Bookworm2000: That's just Pip's way, I guess. He's just a little guy in the book but in Memories of Home, he's grown up. No, never blame the reader, always blame the writer, it's always the writer's fault. :-)  
  
????: D'aw! So pleased someone found out about the Emáten, Envin thing with Skye and me. It's one big happy family now! Hope you're kept on tenterhooks!  
  
MagicalRachel: *glances at self* Nope, still 13. I'm really not that good! I keep confusing people! I'm sorry about the time-twist-y thing. It was supposed to portray urgency but it didn't really work. Yay for Emáten! So happy you like him! *Emáten goes bright red and giggles*  
  
Alatariel: Oh, thank you. It's fantastic that you're enjoying this so much  
  
Holly Wood: AAH! Why does no one want this to end? So happy you liked it! Ooh, Frodo getting all weird, what will he do?  
  
Koko Kung:............BOO! Hehehe. Yes, I have sincerely strange tastes. I am strange. But I go away if you ignore me. Yay! Emáten is supposed to represent Boromir. Hooray for you for noticing! *claps wildly* Sorry, I've been waiting a long time for someone to mention it  
  
TigerLily713: Why? Why don't you want a climax? *sob* Ah well, at least you're enjoying it and that's all that matters. I hope the proceeding chapters please you just as much!  
  
~ Chapter Thirty-Five ~  
  
Aragorn and Gandalf drew their swords and they glittered in the morning light. In a swift movement, Legolas had sent an arrow hissing through the air. It struck the dragon at the joint of its wing and it shrieked in agony. Now earthbound, it shifted towards them, still at frightening speed. They saw a gleaming blade in the rider's glove.  
  
"Fire again, Legolas!" Aragorn shouted. The elf obeyed but the arrow ricocheted off the dragon's armoured head. The jaws opened wide, revealing rows upon rows of serrated teeth. It had just reached the brow of the hill when Gimli leapt forth, digging his axe alongside the arrowshaft still protruding from its scales. The wing tore, revealing grey bones beneath. The dragon screamed and slammed its head round, flinging the dwarf down the hillside.  
  
"Gimli!" Legolas cried. He could imagine those bandages tearing and all Rosie's hard work would come to nothing.  
  
"No, Legolas, come back," Aragorn called but it was futile. The elf sprang nimbly after his companion, sending another arrow zipping over the Nazgûl's head. Limping badly now, the beast of night crawled towards Gandalf. The wizard waited until the last moment, when the jaws were wide and he could sense the cold evil prickle on his skin, before he shouted,  
  
"Kal!"  
  
The light exploded from his staff, pouring into every fissure of the dragon's head. There was no sound. The dragon, his eyes burnt out by the radiance, died almost at once. Its treetrunk legs splayed out around it and the tattered wings drifted to earth, sending up a cloud of dust. When it cleared, the rider was standing upon its broken steed, gazing sightlessly down at its enemy. But Gandalf hardly had enough strength to stand. It was all up to the Fellowship now.  
  
"Dunedin," Bilbo said, "Dunedin!"  
  
It took Aragorn a moment to realise the hobbit was addressing him.  
  
"What?" he snapped, spinning round. He was slowly advancing, trying to close the space between the rider and Gandalf.  
  
"Well, if I could get behind the Black Rider, I could pull it down. I'm small enough and once its on the ground, you could finish it off, couldn't you?"  
  
"Bilbo, it is far too dangerous. I will not allow...Bilbo!"  
  
But already the impetuous hobbit was creeping along the cliff-edge, working his way quietly round. Both he and Aragorn were slowly closing off the Nazgûl's escape.  
  
It would have worked. No sacrifices would have been made. Legolas would have run up the slope as Aragorn pinned the rider to the ground and fired the final arrow that would have ended the Ring's haunt once and for all. But for Sam. Once before, his love and compassion had saved the quest but this time, it almost brought it to ruin. Seeing Bilbo creeping towards the Nazgûl filled him with terror.  
  
"Mr. Bilbo!" he cried, "What are you doing?"  
  
The rider spun round and, upon seeing the hobbit, swept his sword round in an arc. Aragorn's sword countered it just in time. There was the splintering of metal as his blade shattered under the evil influence shrouding the weapon of the enemy. He tumbled to the ground. Bilbo leapt up, throwing his arms desperately around the Nazgûl's neck. Frodo instinctively ran to protect his uncle and Sam followed to defend his master. Bilbo clawed at the wraith vainly, tearing the ragged cloth to shreds. He fell to the ground alongside Aragorn. Frodo and Sam fell down beside them. Towering down over them was no less than a nightmare.  
  
It was Man. A skull, ringed with a crown of silver and wisps of grey hair cobwebbing out behind. It was Man in the form of age. An old man, cursed to ever wander the world. But little more than a man. Riddled with evil and betrayal, his mind long stripped of will or faith. A bony hand was slowly reaching out for Frodo. The one thing it knew. The last thing it had ever known was this hobbit. The Ringbearer. Frodo blazed before it, brighter than any other object in its grey vision.  
  
Pippin pushed his cousin roughly.  
  
"Run, Frodo! Run!"  
  
Frodo was trapped in the Nazgûl's gaze, staring intensely back into the empty socket. Pippin shook him again, apparently the only one not hypnotised by the terrible evil before him.  
  
_Peregrin Took!_ he heard Gandalf cry somewhere in his mind, _Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity! You'll no longer be a nuisance!_  
  
He lashed out at the approaching hand, sending the Nazgûl reeling backwards and breaking the heavy enchantment. He shook Frodo desperately by the arm, almost in tears for his fear.  
  
"Go, Frodo! It's only you he wants! Run!"  
  
Frodo, still drifting from his trance, nodded blearily and stumbled to his feet. Things were sliding together in his mind, dropping into place.  
  
Emáten saw. Only Emáten saw.  
  
He remembered what he had intended to do. And there would be no more Ring. No more regrets. No more pain for those he loved.  
  
Emáten felt the blood rush in his veins. 'No,' he thought, 'This is not how it ends!'  
  
Merry flung himself at the rider's legs, bringing it to the floor. But it merely brushed him off. The wraith rose and lifted its hood again, passing the skull once again into unfathomable darkness. Pippin was trying to get Aragorn and Bilbo up, screaming at them to help him. He watched as Merry threw himself at the Nazgûl again, clinging determinedly at the arm. But again, he was shaken off. The rider was focused on Frodo, slowly backing towards the cliff.  
  
Only Emáten knew what Frodo was about to do. He rose from Gandalf's side, screaming,  
  
"No! No! Please, don't do it, Frodo!"  
  
But already, Frodo had made up his mind. He stopped, his heels digging into the turf of the cliff. Behind him stretched a vast horizon of sea.  
  
"No!" he shouted. The Nazgûl halted in its approach.  
  
"No!" Frodo yelled again, "I will not be your key. In the last years of my life, I was only ever a tool. My mind was always at your mercy. But I will not be your key anymore. I could not save my friends; they had to do it alone. If it was not for them, I never would have succeeded. If it was not for them, I would have died a hundred times over. But you'll never understand that. I pity you in that you will never know love like that. I will not die by your sword."  
  
"Frodo...!" Emáten screamed.  
  
But Frodo turned around and, before either the Nazgûl or Emáten could reach him, he jumped...  
  
~  
  
...please don't hurt me... 


	36. Ematen

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. (Apart from Em?ten) I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
AshNight: Arg! No! Not the *gasp* portable Gollum! *cowers* I'll do my best, master, I'll try and save him *sticks out lower jaw and concentrates on computer screen*  
  
Koko Kung: Hehe. Definitely what I feel like doing to FF.net a _lot_ of the time. What have I done? *sob* I don't know!  
  
ViNguyen: Yes, you call them cliffhangers and in previous fanfics, I have used particularly nasty ones... *glares back* I'm NOT ruining you! :-)  
  
Radia: Ack! Please don't beat me! Ah, sacrifices, I think you might like this chapter. "It fell into the hands of the most unlikely creature imaginable." Thanks for the note on Dunedan, I had trouble with that. And about the Ringwraiths, well, Tolkien never mentions anything about seeing the riders without their hoods when not wearing the Ring and I thought I might be creative. But the "invisible head", hmm... Can you let this pass, please, just this once? *puppy dog eyes*  
  
TrueFan: Lordie. The long review. I will do my best and attempt to save Frodo but if perhaps, you are willing, ahem, to settle it with cash...n'ah, you'll see what's happening to Frodo in this chapter. The chapter below is the key to all your answers. Mwaahaha.  
  
Shirebound: Hehe. Exactly! My first fighting chapter since the Wargs, I think...  
  
Holly Wood: Yay! I am so pleased you liked it. I was worrying half way through that it would not work. And when this is finished, you mention me writing another fic. _Another_?!? Gees, I'm leaving after I've finished this one! Hee- no, really, do you have any requests for a story? Like, which characters to include or the setting? I have a vague storyline worked out but it might be nice to add to it  
  
Kay: Ooh, new reviewer! Ah, I am afraid I cannot yet reveal what is happening to Frodo at present, only ch. 36 can... But I'll do what I can as long as you don't strike me, sir! *cowers*  
  
Alatariel: All the time? Doesn't that get a bit traumatic when you keep killing main characters? But I can't really talk considering ch.35. DIE, FRODO, DIE???!! You need help! Get psychiatric help!  
  
Skye: No, it cannot end like this, Luke...Frodo is your father...ahem, sorry, I could not resist. ;-) YES! More Imprisoned chappies. Is this what I have to do to get you to update? Bring Frodo to a near-death experience? Then again, I do that quite a lot  
  
MagicalRachel: Hooray for tension! *reads rest of review and then jumps up from computer, wild eyed* HAPPY? She wants me to be..._happy_?! Insane child! No, I won't do it. I won't do it, do you hear me?! *throws self through window- calls from outside* Yay for the Merry and Musical fics!  
  
TigerLily713: I'm hurrying, I'm hurrying! And yes, it is sad that things have to come to an end. I will really miss Memories of Home when it's gone!  
  
Elbereth: All hail the cliffhanger! Hee, on second thoughts, better not. I will do my best on saving him but, er, I think you should take out some life insurance *ahem* soon. _Very_ soon  
  
Crazytook: Ooh, pricklin' evil- glad you liked that part. But Frodo stab himself? N'ah, not my style. Hmm, do I have a style? Sadism! I hope the last couple of chapters are just as enjoyable for you. :-))  
  
Eldalie Lavinia: Oh, boo shame, why doncha like Frodo? He's sweet enough and Elij-*ahem* I mean, Frodo has big blue eyes... OK, fair enough. Yay! No one has found out where I live yet but perhaps they will be stirred by this next chapter *uneasily hammers another nail into the boards covering the door*  
  
Bookworm2000: ARG! Get that Gollum away from me! I'll- I'll set Daisy on him! *glances at dozy retriever at her feet who looks up at her vacantly and wags her tail* OK, maybe not. So happy you're enjoying this!  
  
~ Dedicated to the families affected by the three helicopter crashes in the past two days.  
  
~ Chapter Thirty-Six ~  
  
No one would ever know how he reached Frodo before he fell. Maybe the sight of Frodo in such peril spurred his step. Perhaps some power from Valinor had given his feet wings. But nevertheless, Sam reached him.  
  
Frodo jerked to a halt and he found himself gazing up into green-brown eyes.  
  
"Sam," he cried, "Let me go! Don't you see? This is how it was always meant to be."  
  
"No, Mister Frodo," his beloved gardener wept, "No, it was never meant to be like this. You were supposed to stay here, with me. I've worked it out, you see. You would have found healing here. You just didn't see it is all. You're my Mister Frodo and I won't let nothing take you away from me again!"  
  
And Emáten saw. Truly saw. He looked round at the company who were now clustered on the hilltop, some crouching, swords half-drawn, others watching with tears and despair. Emáten realised how much they had achieved. To be separated and then to go to all that trouble to find one another again. To carry another. To be together. The history of the world so rarely followed one course. Yet these heroes had marched together through every doubt. Bonds like that should not be broken. Emáten wanted to save that. For if the Fellowship was lost, what hope was there for the world to follow?  
  
Emáten saw the Nazgûl's fingers flex. The sword in his hand shimmered as it cut the light to ribbons. He saw Sam pull his master back up to safety, unaware that the Black Rider even existed any longer. They embraced and even as they did so, the sword rose up to severe it once more. Cleave the one friendship that was stronger than any magic or darkness.  
  
The hilt in his palm was slick with sweat. The blade was blunted along one edge and the lettering along the bloodline was faint.  
  
Emáten's sword dug into the black robes and lodged deep. The Nazgûl shrieked and its own weapon fell from its hands. The man felt cold shoot up his arms and he cried out in agony. He heard voices. But they seemed like only memories to him, muffled in his ears. All he could see was the Black Rider. The ice clawed through every part of him, digging its frosty claws into his heart.  
  
The Nazgûl was killed at once. It was said that no man could kill one of the Ringwraiths. But there was no man like Emáten, they would say ever afterwards. It was the strength of his soul that destroyed the rider.  
  
Emáten stumbled back, leaving the sword in his enemy. He collapsed onto the earth, gasping in air and trying to focus on the faces above him. But he could not stave off the darkness.  
  
"I died for you," he breathed, hoping that the shadowy figures would hear him, "For I love you all."  
  
Then Emáten let himself drift into the abyss.  
  
--  
  
For a long time, the Fellowship remained there. In the centre of their circle lay Emáten's cold still body and behind them lay the tattered black remains of the last Nazgûl. If the world had ended then, they would not have seen it. They were still too much in shock to notice anything.  
  
The morning sky was lined with dark clouds, as if Middle-Earth itself was grieving for so great a loss. A silent procession was descending the cliffs to the Grey Havens. There it had begun and there it ended. A whole new chapter had been added to the tale. But Sam, when questioned about it, said that the Red Book would not be changed.  
  
"People can make up they're own endings," he murmured, "It ends better there than here. Only more sacrifices. Only more pain."  
  
Frodo did not speak at all. He was not in pain. The Ring did not twist in his mind. There was no more darkness. He had found healing in what he least expected. Not in Valinor with the elves. Not when he was free of his memories. Had the world truly allowed him peace at long last? It felt to Frodo that the world had come to a juddering halt. Emáten was gone.  
  
"We must go south," Aragorn told them, "They will be waiting. And we cannot hide here."  
  
"We cannot tell them of this- it is far too complicated, I am sure, for anyone else to comprehend," Gandalf replied.  
  
"Emáten. We will tell them about Emáten," Pippin said stubbornly.  
  
"Yes, Pip," said Merry, "Emáten will not be forgotten. The world will know about him."  
  
"He deserves his own story. Another book," Bilbo agreed, "And we shall all write it. Eventually, someone else will read it- maybe many. But no, no one will forget Emáten." 


	37. The Beginning

Disclaimer: AU Story. My third large LOTR fic. I can't stop! None of the characters or settings are mine. They all belong to Tolkien. (Apart from Em?ten) I wish I were related to Tolkien, don't you? It would be so cool! Oh, and the plot here is derived from my own imagination. Hope you enjoy.  
  
Shirebound: Oh, thank you. *blush* I didn't think I really had a sense of humanity (where did I last have it?) seeing as I killed my character... But I'm so pleased you liked it and I hope that this chapter will prove as enjoyable  
  
Eldanie Lavinia: Ah, the angst that swells in my stories weaves like a river. But still, glad you thought it was good. Yes, very sad. Very very sad. :-))  
  
Crazytook: Oh! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to make you cry! But thank you so much for a wonderful review- really made my day. I like incorporating the origin of a fanfic too- I'm pleased that the explanation turned out OK. The end was really hard to write!  
  
Koko Kung: It hasn't ended, you needn't cry! I don't mind so much if you cry at the end of this chapter, though. Koko Gandalf, now there's a thought! A sequel? I don't think I could go any further with this if I tried! Like stretching a rubber band. I have a vague idea for the next project. A Mordor description fest, although not half as long as Memories of Home. There, that's my secret upcoming list revealed for you. :-)  
  
Alatariel: If you read my stories, I don't mind! I'll pay your bills, your taxes and I'll even send you cards for Easter, Christmas, Hannukah, Ramadan... Hehe, gald you enjoyed it!  
  
Radia: Too true! Boromir pops it and now Emáten. I think it was destined to be an eight-place Fellowship. Nah, I reckon 4000 for Sam saves Frodo. But it's just so emotional! *dabs at eyes* A mailing list? Now there's an idea. No, I don't have one but I'll try to remember to send you an email next time I update. :-)  
  
????: Yay for hobbits! Emáten turning up in another story? Do you mean Skye's? Luckily, that's set before Memories of Home- it would be pretty awkward if he just went on living. Cool- Emáten defies death! Fantastic! I have ideas for another story but not as big. Any requests for a large project?  
  
Kay: Yeah, I like updating. It's soothing... So happy you liked it!  
  
Skye: I'm sorry! I'm just so sorry! I know, I didn't really consider his family but they will appear in this last chapter, hopefully- if I remember. And anyway, Emarin has her kitten! Maybe a kitten isn't quite the same as a brother, though. It hasn't ended yet!  
  
Bookworm2000: ARG! *runs off to make sure Gollum never finds her* I'm worried about you, man! You and your weird ring-coveting friends... Heehee  
  
MagicalRachel: Nope. I told you- I could never kill Frodo. I think if I ever did, even in my head, I would go off and cry into a pillow. It's too emotionally traumastising! Thank you for asking about the novel- it's going very well as it happens. My characters are getting angry at each other and are currently climbing down into a well. I've yet to find out if Oxford have accepted it though. Thank you for the Merry fic! More Hobbity Goodness and Olympics now! *prowls in front of the computer...waiting*  
  
ViNguyen: It isn't over! I promise! One more chapter to go. I know! Poor Emáten! But still, at least the story is resolved and there are no more Nazgûls  
  
AshNight: Yes! More here! *points* You guessed right- the company are going south with all their mates. T'is gonna be long... Thank God for Sam! That should be a school motto. Did you know there's actually a school for elves in Iceland? It's true!  
  
Elbereth: I miss Emáten...*sniff* But I guess I can only blame myself and the Nazgûl. No, wait, I can only blame me *bottom lip quivers and eyes fill with tears* Excuse me...I'm sorry, Elbereth, I have to go. I've got something in my eye  
  
~OK, this really is the last chapter and I am going to go off and cry when it's all over. I hope everything comes together for you and thank you all for being the best reviewers I could ever wish for.  
  
~ Chapter Thirty-Seven ~  
  
It was October the 17th when they arrived in Osgiliath. The day the Council of Elrond had taken place so long ago. Frodo felt their entering of the city mirrored that event in some way. Yet those that to him were once strangers were now his dearest companions.  
  
People swarmed the streets and roads and bridges, cheering his name, waving banners and flags, singing songs of praise. Old joy had billowed up from memory and now blazed anew.  
  
"This is like what it was back in Minas Tirith," Sam whispered to him, "Do you remember, Mister Frodo? All those years ago."  
  
"All those years...and yet they treat us as if it all happened yesterday," the hobbit laughed. He found himself engulfed by the crowd and separated from his friends who watched with mild amusement as he was lifted onto their shoulders. The terror of the Nazgûl and the sorrow of Emáten's loss seemed to ebb away at the sight of such happiness.  
  
Arwen, Eowyn and Faramir managed to forge a path through to their friends. They saw changes in the Fellowship even before they spoke with them. Their faces were deeply lined and their eyes held no merriment. The hobbits, for once in their lives, looked truly old. Age was beginning to creep over both them and the others. Even fair Legolas looked weary. Arwen knew that they had all seen too much of the world. There was no mystery left for them. They had seen the greatest and the most fearful places on Middle-Earth. Now they were still staggering through with ever increasing sorrow weighting their hearts.  
  
"I think," said Faramir, "That whenever the Fellowship get together for any period of time, there is an adventure of some kind. Or a quest perhaps? You will of course tell us everything."  
  
"In due course, in due course," Aragorn replied, "But...I want to speak to them. The people of Osgiliath. In celebration of Frodo's return and of...of other matters. Do you remember a man named Emáten?"  
  
"Yes. Shy fellow. You sent him to the Shire, did you not?"  
  
"Find his family. We must speak to his family."  
  
--  
  
The festivities went on long into the night. The Fellowship (and of course, Bilbo, who refused to be left out) were the honoured guests and they were not allowed to lift a finger, if only to eat. Platter after platter of food was laid before them and any number of songs sung in their honour. In the end, Sam could stand it no longer and demanded that people stopped telling him how glorious he was and get on with enjoying themselves. But a young woman approached him. There were tears in her eyes and her cheeks were damp.  
  
"Please," she said in a small voice, "May I then sing?"  
  
"Of course!" cried Sam, "As long as it isn't about me."  
  
She risked a quiet laugh.  
  
"No, sir. It- It's for my brother, Emáten."  
  
Sam became silent and cast his eyes down. Instead, Frodo got to his feet.  
  
"What's your name?" he asked.  
  
"Emarin," she said, "Envin and I wanted...well, it was just...I don't know," she finished lamely, dropping her hands to her sides, "We wanted to show that we love him."  
  
"Emarin, I owe your family more than I can ever give. It was Envin who healed me when returning from Mordor and Emáten saved me from the Ring itself. It is I that should give you praise. But I cannot think of any great enough that I can give."  
  
The woman bent down and she and the hobbit embraced. As if sharing every love and hope they had ever had. And then Emarin sang.  
  
"If ever I forget, I will remember,  
  
If ever I am lost, I shall find.  
  
With you as my guide, as my starlight,  
  
In my heart, my soul and mind.  
  
If I ever let go, I'll hold on,  
  
If ever I fall, I shall fly.  
  
For the memories you gave me,  
  
Won't fade or wane or die.  
  
If ever I refuse, I'll comply,  
  
If ever I stray, I shall believe.  
  
For you are our guide,  
  
And Emáten will never leave."  
  
--  
  
Bilbo and the younger hobbits browsed through the faded annuals in the study until they found the one Aragorn had told them of. A large empty book with a blue cover. Bilbo opened it up to the first page and his quill hovered over it.  
  
"What shall we call it?"  
  
"Emáten," said Frodo, "Call it that."  
  
"No offence meant, Frodo," Pippin piped up, "But you played a part in this too. We all did. Sam, Merry, Aragorn, Gandalf..."  
  
"Yes, this is everyone's story," Merry agreed, "It's about all of us coming together. Memories coming together."  
  
"All the memories coming home," muttered Sam.  
  
"Brilliant, Sam," cried Bilbo and he pressed the nib into the page, writing in neat flowing script, 'Memories of Home.'  
  
"And in chapters," said Merry, "So we can fill in the different bits of it. Find out Aragorn's story and Legolas and Gimli's."  
  
"It should begin with Waiting, then. Because that's what we were all doing," Pippin added.  
  
"And it should begin" Frodo said quietly, "With Sam."  
  
--  
  
Memories of Home- compiled by the Fellowship and other sources  
  
Chapter One- Waiting  
  
"Samwise Gardener, are you ever planning on coming inside...?"  
~* End *~ 


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